Broken Legacy
by MarvelMaster616
Summary: A dark secret from the House of El emerges that threatens to destroy Superman, his family, and his entire legacy. This secret brings with it a terrifying new threat...one that draws him and Wonder Woman closer. But will it be in time to stop this threat and build a new legacy for them to share?
1. The Arrival

**Broken Legacy  
Chapter 1: The Arrival**

* * *

 **AN: This is my second Superman/Wonder Woman story and my second DC Comics story in general. After all the wonderful feedback I got from "Strangers In Paradise," I've been contemplating another story. While this one might not be on the same scale as the first, it'll still have plenty of drama and heart.**

 **In terms of setting, this takes place prior to Justice League #12 in DC's New 52 Universe. At the moment, Superman and Wonder Woman are not romantically involved. The Justice League has been in operation for about four years now. And Diana only recently learned of her true heritage, but has not become the God of War yet. This story is basically a different way in which Superman and Wonder Woman come together.**

' _ **This means character thoughts or psychic communication'**_

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Superman, Wonder Woman, or the Justice League. They are the property of DC Comics and Warner Brothers. I am making no money off this in any way. Please don't sue.**

 **As always, I urge everyone to take the time to review the story and provide feedback. Send me your comments via email or post a review on the fanfiction website. Thank you and enjoy!**

* * *

 **Krypton Archives – Years Ago**

' _I'm almost out of time. Need to hurry! If my calculations are correct, the first round of tremors will begin in six hours. That gives me less than five to secure its second-most precious cargo.'_

Jor'El pushed himself harder than anyone in the House of El had ever dared. He hadn't slept in several days. He hadn't eaten much of anything during that span. He couldn't spare a single moment for himself or his own well-being. It didn't matter that he was one of Krypton's most accomplished scientists. Six hours from now, nobody's title or prestige would matter.

Krypton world was doomed. Its people were doomed. He tried to warn them. He tried with every breath he could spare to warn them that the planet's core was destabilizing. They refused to listen. The High Council effectively doomed Krypton's entire civilization. But while Krypton was doomed, its legacy could still live on.

Jor'El had made all the necessary preparations. He and his wife, Lara Lor Van, had constructed a starship in secret and in violation of the High Council's orders. At this very moment, she was preparing their only son, Kal-El, for departure. He would be Krypton's last son. He would be their sole survivor – the embodiment of the House of El and Krypton's legacy. In order to secure that legacy, they needed to send him off with as much of Krypton's assembled knowledge.

This brought him to the archives of the High Council. He had already committed several capital crimes by breaking in, having hacked the security console and overridden the quantum firewalls. He now stood over the Primary Knowledge Matrix Crystal. If Krypton had a crown jewel, then this would be it. This special crystal contained nearly all the cumulative knowledge of Krypton's history. To tamper with it in any way was considered the highest of crimes, but Jor-El was far past the point of caring about Krypton's crimes.

Working feverishly, the accomplished scientist unlocked the quantum safeguards and initiated an unauthorized download. The massive crystal glowed brightly as information streamed from it into several smaller crystals that he constructed himself, which would be placed in the ship with his son.

" _Download commencing,"_ said the main computer interface. _"Warning: unauthorized access has been granted. Unfiltered data will trigger a priority alpha alert."_

"And filtering the data would only slow the process," said Jor'El. "Continue the download. I'll deal with the alert."

As the information flowed into the crystals, he activated his wrist-communicator and opened a secure line to Lara. It wouldn't be much longer. First, Kryton's highest authorities would come after them. Then, they would try to stop the launch. Jor-El refused to let that happened.

"Lara, it's me. I'm almost done. Is the ship ready?" said Jor'El to the communicator.

" _Almost,"_ she replied through a holographic display. _"We'll be cutting it close, but it looks like we'll make it. I just got word of an alpha alert though. You know what that means."_

"I expected this. I never said saving our son and our heritage would be easy."

" _Please. If any of your endeavors were easy, I wouldn't have married you,"_ said Lara curtly.

"Which is why I've the utmost confidence you'll keep the High Guard from entering my lab," said Jor-El. "They can't delay the launch!"

" _Don't worry. They won't. If they want to lay a finger on this ship or my son, they'll have to go through me."_

"May Rao have mercy on them all," said Jor-El.

He closed the link, having the utmost faith that his wife would protect the ship and their son. Lara did not take kindly to anyone who threatened her family. It didn't matter if the entire Kryptonian army attacked. She would take on every one of them.

Jor-El couldn't help but be proud of Lara and the family they built together. The House of El had been among Krypton's most respected families for generations. He could think of no better mother for Kal-El. For this and many other reasons, he needed to know about his family and about his legacy. That way when he came of age, he could be proud of his heritage.

As he contemplated the legacy he would impart to his son, an unexpected warning message came up on the holographic screen.

" _Warning. Zeta Level Encryption detected,"_ the system announced. _"Be advised. The files cannot be uncoupled from the data cluster. However, they can be filtered. Doing so would temporarily halt the data stream. Do you wish to proceed?"_

"I want to say no, but first tell me the source of the files. What do they pertain to?" asked Jor-El.

" _Scanning. Scan complete. The files are part of a deeply embedded, heavily redacted file regarding the Atrocities of Tyr-El. Please note that the data stream will be throttled if you wish to filter it from the download. Do you wish to proceed?"_

Jor-El froze at the sound of that name. There weren't many forces that could make him shudder as the world around him was coming to an end. But the sound of that name – a name that the House of El had tried to purge from their memories – shook him to his core.

"By Rao – why now? Of all the data in all the known universe, why must I see this _now_?" he lamented.

Jor-El watched the encrypted file flash before the screen. It revealed to him a horror that had not been mentioned beyond a whisper in centuries. It was a poorly kept, but heavily protected secret. Even his old nemesis, Dru-Zod, didn't dare bring it up. Even he understood the horrors of this secret and the dangers of exposing it. Now here he was – the end of Krypton at hand and having to save this horrible secret along with his son.

Knowing that time was not on his side, Jor-El did something he hadn't done in years. He hesitated. Logic dictated one thing. His heart urged him to do otherwise. He thought back to the day his son was born. He remembered holding him with Lara, promising to love and protect him no matter what. This was one instance where that promise could not be kept.

" _Warning. Data throttling will commence in ten seconds if you do not respond,"_ said the computer, adding more urgency to Jor-El's decision. _"I'll repeat my query. Do you wish to proceed?"_

Even in the face of this horror, Jor-El bowed his head solemnly. In the end, there was only one logical choice. He just prayed to Rao that it was the right one.

"No," he finally answered. "Continue the download. Reinforce the encryption on the data files in question. If Rao has any mercy for Krypton and the House of El, then these files will _never_ be opened."

* * *

 **Metropolis Metropolitan Museum – Present Day**

"Thank you all for being here on this beautiful spring day. It's a day I hope will be as historic as any artifact in this museum. After all, it was not so long ago that history as we knew it changed. We, as a people and a species, learned that we are not alone in this universe – that there are not alone even on this planet. We share this world with some amazing beings. And one of those beings – whom I know you've been waiting to hear from – is here today in the name of peace. So in the interest of my approval rating, I'll skip the rest of my speech and welcome the guest of honor – Superman, the Man of Steel!"

A great cheer erupted as the Mayor of Metropolis stepped aside from the podium and let the Man of Steel take it from here. A record crowd had gathered around the museum, filling the streets from end to end with adoring citizens waiting to get a glimpse of its greatest hero. From old men to young children, they cheered in solidarity – a testament to impact Superman had on Metropolis and the world. Even as the Justice League ascended to greater prominence after the Darkseid invasion, Superman still held the title as the world's most beloved hero.

"We love you, Superman!"

"You're the best! And you always will be!"

"You're our hero! You'll always be our hero!"

These adoring cheers always put a smile on Superman's face. While there were always critics spouting xenophobic vitriol – mostly from the pro-Lex Luthor crowd – he had learned to filter it out. Time and again, the good he saw in people outweighed the bad. This good was what he fought for. This good wass what made him Superman.

In the spirit of that good, he made it a point to give back to these people who had embraced him as their champion. It wasn't enough for him to be a hero. That's why he organized this event. In wake of Darkseid's invasion four years ago, it was an important gesture.

"Thank you, Mr. Mayor. And thank you Metropolis for being part of this," said Superman once the cheering died down. "It means a lot to me that the museum is opening its first ever exhibit dedicated to my home world, Krypton. As many of you know, I was not born on this planet. And while still see Earth as my home, a part of who I am will _always_ be tied to Krypton. There's so much about Krypton that was lost – so much that we can never get back. But my home world's destruction doesn't have to be the end of its legacy. That's why I've decided to share that legacy with my adopted world. Using the technology I salvaged from the ship that brought me here, I've created an interactive world that I hope will bridge the ideals of two worlds. So in the interest of preserving one legacy and building another, I'm proud to share the enduring spirit of Krypton with that of Earth."

At the conclusion of this brief speech, Superman smiled towards the audience and listened to the cheers that followed. He then turned towards the Mayor, who tried to hand him an oversized pair of scissors for the ceremonial ribbon cutting. He politely waved it off, opting to use his heat vision to cut the ribbon.

This got an extra round of cheers from the crowd, as he knew it would. Seeing him use his otherworldly powers still got a reaction. The thrill and wonder that he conveyed as Superman still captivated many. No matter how many times he saw it, Clark still took a special satisfaction in it.

After cutting the ribbon, he and the Mayor formally opened the doors to the museum. A large contingent of reporters and press followed them inside, including Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen. As expected, they made sure they were at the front of the line. Given the Daily Planet's connection to Superman, they were also expected to write the story that every other outlet would follow.

"Great speech, Supes!" said Jimmy, giving Superman a thumbs-up before snapping a picture.

"Thank you, Jimmy," replied Superman, making sure he smiled for the picture.

"Short, sweet, and to the point – if only every press event was that smooth. I'd be out of a job and working for Cat Grant's gossip blog," said Lois.

"You always have an elaborate way of giving compliments people, Lois," said Superman with a smirk.

"A compliment sometimes needs context," she shrugged. "It also helps when someone who has been famously vague on his past finally opts to share a few details."

"Oh I'd say there are _more_ than a few in this exhibit," said Superman as he gestured towards the elaborate display before him.

Jimmy, as well as the rest of the press group, was already taking plenty of pictures at the exhibit. The museum really went all out in setting it up, going out of their way to accommodate the unique features that came with Krypton's history.

An entire segment of the central hall had been cleared and a new wing had been added, thanks to a generous donation from Bruce Wayne. The hall had an elaborate mock-up of Superman's Fortress of Solitude, the crystalline arctic base that he often went to in order to be alone. This structure was just one of many that depicted various Kryptonian displays, some of which were modeled and some of which contained actual artifacts from his Fortress.

Most of these artifacts came in the form of small crystals, many of which were encoded with vast amounts of data containing the history of his people. These crystals acted as guides of sorts. As soon as Jimmy and the Mayor approached a display, the crystals activated to create dazzling holographic displays that depicted Kryptonian life.

" _Welcome to Metropolis' history of Krypton exhibit,"_ a computerized voice from the display said. _"I am Viv – a Kryptionian-style virtual interface, programmed by Kal-El to be your guide. My database is vast – encompassing Krypton's history, culture, and traditions. I look forward to sharing our heritage in the name of truth, justice, and peace between worlds."_

This display, and the spectacle it created, garnered plenty of attention. Jimmy eagerly snapped a few photos, knowing Perry White demanded a little style to go along with the substance that made the Daily Planet famous. Superman was confident he'd get plenty to meet Perry's often-grueling demands.

"Whoa! Looks like I should've brought more film," said Jimmy as he and the press marveled at the display.

"I trust you'll make it count," said Superman.

"If only Perry trusted me _half_ as much – or paid me that much, for that matter," he joked.

Jimmy ran off to snap as many photos as he could before other photographers got ahead of him. The holographic display above the main structure continued to play out, depicting various images of Kryptonian architecture, art, and culture. It was a testament to his peoples' legacy – one he had not readily shared until recently.

Such displays might impress the Metropolis press core, but not Lois Lane. It usually took a lot more to impress her. While others focused on the displays, she stayed behind.

"You know how to create a spectacle. And for once it didn't involve major property damage," said Lois.

"Two compliments in under five minutes? Why do I get the feeling you're buttering me up for some tough questions?" quipped Superman.

"You know me too well and I'm terrible at _buttering_ people up," she conceded. "There are still questions worth asking though – namely what made you change your mind. I'd like to say I know you pretty well, given all the exclusives we've had – not to mention the countless times you've saved my life."

"The running count is 23 actually."

"The fact you keep track tells me others have asked this question to," continued Lois. "You've always been pretty private about your home planet – not to mention everything else. So what changed? Why are you sharing all this with us now?"

Superman expected to get this question at some point. He even expected Lois to ask it before anyone else. Being Superman – especially after the battle against Darkseid and the formation of the Justice League – came with all sorts of challenges. Being the hero he wanted to be – and the hero people needed him to be – required him to constantly adapt. He saw this as part of that process.

"There's no easy answer to those questions, Lois," said Superman as he watched some reporters explore the exhibits. "There's a reason I kept these things private – good reasons, in fact."

"I don't doubt those reasons are good. I can't speak for the rest of Metropolis though – or the world, for that matter," said Lois.

"I don't expect you to either. Who I am and what I do – it's a big deal. People think I don't understand what it means to be this global icon, but I do. It's overwhelming having a hero like Superman flying around, saving the day with his other-worldly powers. Sharing all the details about where I came from and how I got here – well, that makes it even more overwhelming."

"And you didn't trust us to handle it?" she questioned.

"Quite the opposite, actually," retorted Superman. "I didn't think _I_ had earned the trust of the people I'm protecting. Part of being Superman means being a hero people can trust. It takes time to gain that trust. I like to think I've gained enough trust that the people can embrace my world just as I've embraced theirs."

"Well if beating Darkseid and regularly humiliating with Lex Luthor isn't enough, then I'd say the people who don't trust you are just being _difficult_ ," said Lois.

The Man of Steel chuckled. Lois may have asked difficult questions at times, but she did see the bigger picture better than anyone he knew. She wasn't afraid to be critical, but she trusted him more than most and not just because he often saved her life. He could tell she still had plenty of tough questions to ask him, but he also trusted her to ask them at the right time.

"I still say you have more faith in people than anyone should," said Lois.

"It's part of what makes me Superman," he replied with a bemused shrug.

"Just don't overdo it. You might have their trust, but it doesn't take much to undermine it," she warned him. "I just hope you made sure there isn't anything in these exhibits that would make people wary of Kryptonians."

"I've filtered the data in this exhibit myself. I'm proud of my people's achievements and of my family. I can think of no better way to celebrate the trust I've built than by sharing Krypton's legacy."

Lois made sure she captured that quote. Superman had a feeling that would be one of the headlines in tomorrow's edition of the Daily Planet. It conveyed the right message. This exhibit was an important step in being the hero he wanted to be. His father warned him about sharing too much of Krypton's knowledge with humanity, but he also emphasized the importance of preserving Krypton's legacy.

Having given Lois her share of exclusive quotes, she joined the rest of the press core as they toured the exhibit. Superman shook a few more hands and posed for a few more pictures, including several newscasters. Overall, this event was a success. The exhibit garnered the right kinds of attention and none of his enemies had attacked. Over the past few years, he learned to appreciate any event that didn't involve any property damage.

After ensuring the press was satisfied with his contributions, he did one last scan of the area with his enhanced vision to make sure everything was in working order. In doing so, he noticed a familiar female figure navigating the crowd of reporters and broadcasters.

She didn't have a camera or a notepad with her. She was unusually inconspicuous, wearing sunglasses and baseball cap. She was clearly trying hard not to stand out, but Superman recognized her. When he saw her slip off to the side away from the crowds, he covertly flew over to confront her.

"Hello Diana," he greeted. "How'd you get in here without a press pass?"

"I'm an Amazonian demigod, Kal. Use your imagination," replied Diana flatly, not even looking in his direction.

"Is everything okay? Did Batman send you here to keep an eye on things?"

"You really think Batman would send me undercover to make sure nobody ruined this event? This act of good faith that you, the League, and the world _badly_ needs in the post-Darkseid era?" she retorted.

"Are those rhetorical questions?" asked Superman in bemusement.

"Let me ask it another way – if Batman really thought something _might_ go wrong, do you think I'd be this easy to find?"

When she phrased the question like that, it gave Superman his answers and then some. He wanted to roll his eyes, but he had been working with Batman long enough to know how he operated. Even with his enhanced senses, Batman found a way to stay in the shadows. And if he really thought something would happen, then Diana would be doing a lot more than just standing around in poor disguise.

While it answered one set of questions, it raised another. Superman had been working with Diana just as long as Batman. He knew her pretty well too – more than most of the Justice League dared to know. When something was really bothering her, she didn't usually hide it – not without a very good reason.

"I'll save you the trouble of asking more questions," said Diana, her voice becoming more distant. "I know you're already worried. You know I wouldn't go out of my way like this for no reason – not when there are battles to fight and injustice to defeat."

"You know me well. You know that I know you," said Superman in a more serious tone. "That alone says a lot. It also means I'm willing to talk if you need to."

"It's not like talking to Batman would be easier – or Hal, since he can't resist the urge to stare at my breasts every five seconds," she said dryly.

"So you _need_ to talk, but aren't necessarily _willing_ ," he surmised.

"That's…not true."

"Diana, you're great at so many things. Lying _isn't_ one of them."

The Amazon warrior bowed her head slightly – something Amazons rarely did. Diana had been trained from birth to hold her head high, embrace truth, and be proud of who she is. She carried that same pride with her as Wonder Woman. She never let conflict and uncertainty burden her. That was not the way of the warrior.

Lately, however, the very concept of Amazonian pride came into question. It filled Diana with a level of conflict she had never felt before, let alone talked about. But if she couldn't talk about it with Superman, then who else could she talk to?

"Krypton is an amazing world, Kal. You're doing a wonderful thing here – sharing it with the people," said Diana, her voice still distant. "You've so much to be proud of. Your people – your heritage – it has the potential to nurture so much good and understanding."

"I want to say thanks, but I hope you're not trying to change the subject," said Superman with growing concern.

"I'm not. I'm doing _exactly_ what I came here to do. I'm admiring a culture that has so much to offer – one you have every right to be proud of. From what I've seen, Krypton was a just and honorable society. They worked together, learned from one another, and achieved great wonders. The technology they created and the society they built – it truly was astounding."

"They still had their flaws. I don't ignore them either. There's an entire section on how Krypton's tampering with its core led to its destruction."

"I don't doubt these flaws. It's more a matter of context. Not knowing how their activities affected their planet – that's less a flaw and more a tragedy. Your people didn't fully understand the consequences of their actions. That's far more honorable than knowing your peoples' _traditions_ require the murder of innocent men and the abandonment of their children."

Diana's voice grew dark and bitter. It didn't take long for Superman to piece the rest together. Her admiration of Krypton's culture made a lot more sense in light of the unpleasant truths she recently learned about her people. Knowing this was a sensitive issue for her, Superman opted not to comment. He just offered Diana a reassuring gesture, which she accepted even if her warrior spirit wouldn't allow her to acknowledge it.

This was an issue that had recently emerged. She only shared it with the Justice League when Batman figured out that she had _anomalies_ in her DNA, as he called them – a natural byproduct of having Zeus as a father. How Batman figured this out – not to mention why he felt to need to study the DNA of Justice League members in the first place – was still a mystery. However, the revelation of her heritage wasn't nearly as jarring as those surrounding the disturbing traditions of the Amazons.

"I used to believe that the strength of the Amazons was built on an honorable foundation," she continued. "Every Amazonian child is taught that we are warriors blessed by the gods – empowered in our darkest hour and strengthened by a devotion honor. Our spirit is pure, absent the corruption of man's world. We are not born by acts of traditional lust. We are only born of love. And only by showing great love were Amazons allowed to bear a child. Hera would bless the womb of one deemed worthy, imparting the gift of life and entrusting her to nurture it. It all seemed so honorable – generations of sisters untainted by man – born in purity, love, and strength. If only it were as true as I foolishly believed."

As she said these words, another holographic display formed over the main exhibit. The display depicted a rendering of a Kryptonian family, not unlike Superman's. It showed a man, a woman, and two children wearing traditional Kryptonian attire standing together, smiling and conveying the most basic forms of familial bonds. It was such a simple image, generating little interest from those present. To Diana, however, this display of the most basic familial bonds struck at the heart of the Amazons' atrocities.

"You weren't foolish, Diana," said Superman. "You believed what your family told you. You trusted them. That's not on you."

"You're wrong, Kal," said Diana. "Maybe it wasn't my fault for trusting them as a child. Having never left Themyscira until I came of age, I had no reason _not_ to trust them. But after I did leave – after I explored man's world and learned how wrong they had been about mankind – I should've had _some_ suspicions. It makes me wonder if Batman has the right idea, never wholly trusting anyone."

"Given Batman's people skills, I wouldn't go _that_ far."

"Even if I had only gone half-way, it would've made the truth a _lot_ less painful," said Diana solemnly.

She turned away from the holographic image of the Kryptonian family and hugged her shoulders. She couldn't subject herself to this right now – the sight of any family that hadn't been tainted by atrocity. It was a harsh reminder.

"This isn't some irrational tradition or inane taboo – it's ritual _slaughter_!" she said, her emotions intensifying with every word. "My sisters – the same sisters that I love and fight for with all my heart– seduce unwitting men, murder them in cold blood, and abandon their own sons. There's no honor in such traditions. We pretend to be proud warriors. We _lie_ to our own daughters about their heritage. We hide from the knowledge that the entire foundation of Amazonian culture is built on the bodies of countless innocents! How many fathers, sons, brothers, and loved ones have died by Amazonian hands? How many of our own sons have we thrown away for the mere crime of being male? All that trust and honor I'm supposed to carry into battle – it now feels so…tainted."

Superman attempted another consoling gesture. This time, she rejected it. She rarely needed comfort – her strength as an Amazon always being enough to carry her through any hardship. This was more than mere hardship. This was the cold and painful truth. And no amount of strength – not even that of Superman or Wonder Woman – could change the truth.

He gave her some additional space. As much as he cared for Diana, Superman understood when words and gestures just weren't enough. This still didn't stop him from being there for her.

"Diana, I can't pretend to understand what you're going through so I won't," he said.

"Sometimes I wish you _would_ pretend," Diana scoffed. "It would be nice to entertain the illusion that someone can relate to having their legacy shattered."

"Embracing illusions don't change the fact that they're still illusions."

"That's easy to say when your legacy is filled with love, hope, and self-sacrifice. And _that's_ just from your own parents."

"You're right. It _is_ easy," Superman conceded. "That's what makes the truth so hard. It's also what makes the truth worth accepting. Because once we start accepting illusions, we stop trying to change it for the better."

"There's nothing to change, Kal. There's no undoing centuries of atrocities," she said bitterly. "All those men who died – all the mothers who bore their children – their hands are forever stained with innocent blood!"

"The past can be every bit as harsh as the truth, I know," he continued. "We might not be able to change it, but we can still change the future. You might think your legacy is tainted now, but it certainly isn't _shattered_. You can still fight to make it into something you _can_ take pride it."

He spoke with such hope. That was to be expected. The symbol on his chest, after all, was a symbol of hope. It didn't just apply to ordinary people. It could just as easily apply to demigods and warriors like her.

Diana gazed at him briefly, still full of conflict. She couldn't doubt his sincerity. Superman had never been anything other than sincere and honest with her, which was more than she could say about her own sisters. This man stood as a symbol of hope for so many people – hope for both the present and the future. Then, as her gaze drifted from his eyes to that iconic symbol on his chest, the cold hard truth struck her again.

Even a great warrior could only take so much. A great warrior also knew when a battle could not be won and Diana did not care to fight losing battles.

"I appreciate your outlook in my peoples' future, Kal. Really, I do," said Diana as she turned away from him once again, "but there's a fine line between tainted and shattered. The fact you can't tell the difference means you _don't_ understand. You obviously don't have a clue."

With these solemn and bitter words, Diana walked off – heading towards the nearest exist while everyone else clamored to get in. Superman briefly contemplated going after her. Again, he chose to give her some space. She was Wonder Woman. She made it clear to everyone that she didn't need support from others to fight her battles – even when she could genuinely use it.

Whatever the case, she made a valid point. Superman didn't understand what she was going through. This wasn't like him discovering as a child that he wasn't from Earth. Everything she thought she knew about her sisters and the legacy of the Amazons had been shaken in the worst possible way. She was still a proud warrior and would keep fighting her battles as she always did, but even proud warriors can't avoid the heavy humility that often came with a harsh truth.

' _She's such a strong, compassionate woman. I've always admired that about her. She'll comfort any innocent person – dare to love anyone who feels unloved. And then, she'll try to shoulder every burden, even when she knows she can't.'_

He felt bad for his friend and teammate. While Superman still had hope for Diana, and even for the Amazons, he worried that Diana didn't share in that hope. He still trusted her to deal with these burdens. For now, he had his own legacy to deal.

' _I guess that's easier when you have a strong legacy guiding you. I suppose I should be thankful. I can only imagine how hard it must be when that legacy is lost. Given the high bar my father set with Krypton's legacy, I hope I never have to.'_

* * *

 **Lexcorp R &D Facility**

"Information is the key to knowledge. Knowledge is the key to truth. Truth is the key to triumph," said an intensely focused Lex Luthor as he sat hunched over his work bench.

This was the mantra of a superior intellect. This simple understanding that even lesser minds could comprehend served as the basis for every endeavor worthy of his intellect. Lex Luthor didn't need to remind himself of this understanding, but he still felt compelled say it out loud. In a world full of inferior minds, it was worth belaboring.

Since his mind was anything but inferior, Lex put it to good use. For the past six hours, he had been hard at work in one of his most secure research facilities in Metropolis. This particular facility specialized in emerging fields of information technology – the first ingredient in the mantra of a superior intellect. This lab made regular advances on a daily basis in cutting-edge technology that utilized quantum computing, holographic data storage, and advanced decryption – mostly by him, of course.

It was not Lexcorp's most glamorous divisions, but it served as important a purpose as any in his never-ending effort to prove his superiority. It had been a while since he had done significant research in this lab, but there was a good reason for that. He now had an even better reason for channeling his genius into his latest creation, which was already coming together.

At the moment, his creation was still a messy assortment of advanced electronics strewn over a table and connected to secure servers. He was still making adjustment to ensure it would work to perfection, as a superior intellect could accept nothing less. As he made these adjustments, a TV next to a server blared with the latest cycle of news reports. While he only paid so much attention to the drivel of ignorant masses, there were certain events he could not ignore.

" _Recapping our top story today, the Metropolis Metropolitan Museum opened its doors to the long-awaited Krypton exhibit. This exhibit offers the most comprehensive insight into the world that birthed our resident Man of Steel, including a detailed glimpse of Kryptonian culture as well as insights into Superman's family. This exhibit – first announced earlier this year – came courtesy of Superman himself. It marks the first time he's provided an in depth look at his world – a marked shift from his previous policy of measured privacy, as the Daily Planet once described. It also marks an unprecedented level of openness from an acting member of the Justice League, which some have criticized for a lack of transparency."_

Lex Luthor snorted bitterly at that last remark. He had been by far the most vocal critic of Superman and the Justice League – and not just because they often hindered his efforts. He still didn't doubt for a second that this new _openness_ , as the news so foolishly called it, was just another farce.

" _So far, early reviews of the exhibit have been overwhelmingly positive,"_ the news broadcast continued. _"Preliminary polling indicates that while opinions on the Justice League remain mixed, opinions on Superman are at an all-time high. He is, by far, the most admired hero in Metropolis and the world at large. His willingness to share his heritage is expected to improve those opinions even more. Officials from the museum say they anticipate a surge of interest in Kryptonian culture. Record numbers of patrons are expected to tour the exhibit for the next several months."_

This time, Lex could barely contain his disgust. These peons never ceased to astonish him. This otherworldly creature shares just a sliver of the knowledge at his disposal and they willingly place their blind trust in him. It was pathetic, but he didn't expect them to see the truth with their inferior minds.

Being a superior mind, Lex Luthor knew better. He understood that this charade was mere breadcrumbs for the masses – a way for Superman to avoid scrutiny. He still thought he was mankind's shining beacon of truth, justice, and all that was good. He was still as wrong as he ever was. The rest of the world might not believe it. Superman himself might not believe it. Lex was going still to prove it.

" _In other news, the Senate subcommittee on the Lexcorp scandal issued another round of subpoenas today. This comes just one week after the United Nations issued a special report linking Lexcorp to the sale of illegal weapons to Eastern Europe, the Middle East, and Africa in exchange for rare mineral resources. It marks another low-point for Lexcorp and its embattled CEO, Lex Luthor. Mr. Luthor hasn't been seen publicly since Superman dropped a container full of illegal weapons on the steps of his corporate headquarters. Lexcorp's stock price is expected to take another major hit. Analysts estimate the company's loses could be in the tens of billions. Some even predict that, despite his majority ownership of the company, Mr. Luthor could be forced out by investors within…"_

That was as far as Lex Luthor let it get. Before the report could finish, he grabbed a nearby wrench and threw it at the TV, breaking the screen and causing the whole set to fall off the table. It left a shattered mess of glass, plastic, and sparks on the floor. But Luthor didn't even look up from his work bench. The news had ceased being useful to him and so had the TV.

"Lies, half-truths, and drivel – the product of a corrupt message on lesser minds," Lex scoffed. "They want to buy into Superman's narrative – one where he's the clean-cut hero while I'm the corrupt villain? Fine! Let them cling to those lies. It'll only make my inevitable triumph more satisfying."

Lex picked up the pace of his work, assembling the array of components as fast as his hands would allow. At times, he used a special magnifying glass and a spark gun. Armed with these tools and the genius that made him so superior, his creation continued to manifest before his eyes.

If that news report had been useful for anything, it at least reminded him that time was now a factor. He could not deny that his previous failures to defeat Superman were catching up to him. Between illegal weapons sales and his repeated humiliation, which often made public by the Dailey Planet, the pressure on him kept escalating. He had to deliver soon or else no one would be left to expose Superman's lies.

Because of these lies, authorities from all over the world wanted Lex Luthor locked up and tried for crimes against humanity. Were it not for his connections with people in very high places, he would've been thrown in prison long ago. But Lex was smart enough to outwit the legal system. He was smarter than anyone and by exposing Superman's lies, he would prove it.

As he worked at a fevered pace, the secure doors to the lab opened and Mercy Graves – Lex's trusted assistant and body guard – entered with a briefcase cuffed to her wrist. She was the only one authorized to enter this lab. Moreover, she had been specifically instructed to not do so until she completed a very important mission for him.

"I'm back," she announced as she approached his work bench.

"You're two minutes and fifteen seconds late, Mercy. Tell me you have an excuse and make it a good one," said Lex, still not looking up.

"I do. Some visitors from the FBI and Interpol were at the front door. They were waving warrants at everyone and sealing off every possible entrance. I had to come in through the utility hatch."

"I won't say that's a good excuse, but it's acceptable," he said flatly.

"I'm afraid I don't have an excuse for them freezing your accounts though. They're serious this time. They want to take you in and hang you by a meat hook until you answer their questions. Those are _their_ words, not mine."

Still not daunted, Luthor just sneered and set aside the magnifying glass. He even snickered at the effort these government stooges were making to taking him down.

"Don't worry about them. I made sure they won't find anything in this facility. I transferred every last bit of incriminating hardware to an undisclosed location – one they can't possibly know about," he said confidently.

"Tell that to the 23-year-old receptionist who got thrown to the floor and chipped a tooth," said Mercy.

"So send her a fruit basket and tell her to make a smoothie," Lex scoffed. "Now quit telling me things I already know – hard as that might be. Did you do as I asked?"

"Yes. I did," she replied flatly. "The results, however, weren't as promising as we hoped."

Mercy clutched the briefcase still cuffed to her wrist and set it on an empty area of the work bench. Having the dreaded task of telling Lex Luthor something other than what he wanted to hear was daunting. Few individuals in this company – or on this planet, for that matter – were equipped to do so. Mercy was among those few.

"I recruited our best engineers, programmers, and physicists. I even tapped a renegade hacker who made one too many bets with a loan shark. They all staked out the museum. They followed every exhibit – every display – every Kryptonian relic on display."

"Including the data crystals?" said Lex.

"We scrutinized them more than anything," she continued. "We expected Superman to make sure those crystals could only be used how he wanted. We tried to hack them. We tried to look for any open connections we could exploit. However, the safeguards on these things were…thorough. Some operate on a level that defies our understanding of physics. Again, those are their words, not mine."

"Given the limits of their understanding, I'm not surprised," he scoffed.

"While they couldn't be hacked, we did scan them in every possible frequency with every type of analysis we could get away with. I made sure they got away with more than they thought, but they're still not sure it's enough."

"I don't need them to be sure. Show me what they did with this data and _I'll_ decide whether they remain in one piece."

Mercy nodded lightly and proceeded to unlock the heavy briefcase. It required a biometric scan and a special access code that only she and Lex knew. Once unlocked, she opened the case to reveal a single, crystalline object.

To an unenlightened mind, it didn't look too remarkable. It was barely the size of an apple and could easily be mistaken for something bought at a gift shop. In the hands of an ordinary man, it was nothing more than a paperweight. In the hands of Lex Luthor, it was the key to exposing Superman's lies.

"This is the best they could do," said Mercy as they gazed over the crystal. "They took the data they gathered and tried to recreate what they saw. They even used every last speck of those rare minerals you gave them – those same minerals that required several billion dollars of illegal weapons sales."

"I think of it more as an investment instead of a requirement," said Lex with a touch of humor. "No great truth was ever gained without kicking up a little dirt – or spilling a little blood."

"Well I hope that investment pays off. Between Interpol and the Board of Directors, they think you're tapped out, Lex."

"Then let them sit on their guns and wallets just a bit longer," he said, still not threatened in the slightest. "They'll get what they want soon enough."

With the utmost care, Lex put on a pair of heavy gloves and retrieved the crystal with the utmost care. As he held it in his hands, he took a moment to admire it – not because of its beauty, but because of the knowledge it could unlock.

"Quantum crystalline subluminal matrices coupled with parallel entanglement clusters – a concept so advanced that it's only fitting that aliens mastered it first," said Lex. "It's almost like magic – near infinite amounts of data being processed at near infinite speeds. In theory, you could scan an entire galaxy – down to the last molecule – and store all the data on a crystal small enough to fit in a backpack. It's only logical that a race like the Kryptonians would've mastered this craft and used it to preserve their history."

As remarkable as this small object was, Lex didn't admire it for too long. With steady hands, he placed the crystal into the core of the device he had been working on. This core consisted of a series of concentric rings, each feeding into several sets of wires and advanced circuits. While the more refined components remained unfinished, the most important parts were complete. Now, it had its most important ingredient.

"Therein lies the problem – as well as the key to Superman's downfall," said Lex as he attached the wires to the crystal. "It all comes down to logic – cold, calculating logic – the kind that neither man nor Superman can get around."

"Hopefully it's as effective as kryptonite," said Mercy.

"In some ways, it isn't. In others – well, let's just say it'll hit the Man of Steel where it hurts!"

After connecting a couple more wires, Lex reached over towards a special terminal where these wires converged. He adjusted several dials, making a string of complex calculations in his head that would've crippled a lesser mind. He then flipped the switch and power began flowing into the device.

Almost immediately, the crystal reacted. It wasn't as brilliant or as energetic as the crystals at the museum. This one flickered for a few moments, becoming very bright and very dim in a string of chaotic patterns. Luthor continued adjusting the dials, altering the energy input until the flickering settled. Once it did, the crystal settled into a steady, yellowish glow.

"Beautiful," said Luthor distantly as the light radiated throughout the lab. "Logic – by far, one of nature's most underrated beauties."

"I'll take your word for it," said Mercy, who couldn't bring herself to appreciate it as much, "but besides logic, what are we looking at?"

"Well first and foremost, we're looking at proof that the team I hired did their job," he said. "I didn't expect them to make a perfect replica of a Kryptonian data crystal. I didn't even expect them to make a half-way decent one. I just needed them to make one that's functional. That means my latest invention now has its most important part and that team can keep their jobs – among other things."

Lex made a few more adjustments on the dials. Then, he put on a pair of specialized goggles. Mercy did the same, retrieving a spare set on an adjacent table. Within moments, the glow of the crystal intensified. It continued to flicker, showing hints of instability, but this didn't concern Lex in the slightest. When it came to great breakthroughs, stability was often a hindrance.

"We're also looking at the key – the light from which that cold, hard logic will expose Superman's dirty little secrets," said Lex intently.

"You're still that convinced the overgrown boy scout has those kinds of secrets?" said Mercy with folded arms.

"I don't need to be convinced. Logic alone provides the certainty. It's a logic that most ordinary humans can follow. Go back far enough in their history and you'll find secrets – dark, disgusting secrets that shatter any semblance of innocence. Find any random German and you'll trace his history back to the Nazis. Find any Mongolian and you'll find the atrocities committed by Genghis Khan. You need only follow my history to my pitiful excuse for a father. Look deep enough, and those secrets are there."

It made sense – too much sense in some ways. It was one of those painful truths that few dared contemplate with themselves, let alone a false savior like Superman. This meant that oftentimes, painful truths needed a hard shove to get the point across.

"And these are mere men – not advanced aliens with the power to destroy entire planets," Lex continued. "The atrocities of our ancestors are too sickening to contemplate for most ordinary people. Imagine what those same people contemplate when they learn of Krypton's atrocities."

"If they're even there," said Mercy, still skeptical in her boss' assumptions.

"Oh they're there. I know they are!" said Lex with the utmost certainty. "No species becomes this advanced without getting their hands dirty. Time may pass. Later generations may censor their history. It doesn't change the truth. Even at our most depraved, mankind's ability to commit atrocities is tempered by our physical and technological limitations. But a race of beings that have the power of Superman and the technology to travel the stars – even my brilliant mind shudders to imagine the atrocities they've committed."

There was no further debate. There was nothing Mercy could say to change his mind. Lex Luthor was convinced that these dark truths were out there, hiding behind Superman's false image of a clean-cut superhero. It was only a matter of finding them and exposing this so-called superhero for the fraud he was. With this goal so tantalizingly close, Lex sat down at his workbench and made the final preparations.

"With this device, I will hack Superman's deepest, darkest secrets," said Lex. "He can hide all he wants. Whether it's in the Fortress of Solitude or the Justice League's watchtower, I _will_ find them! I _must_ find them before they find us."

"You really think we'll be that lucky? That one of Superman's secrets will just fall out of the sky?" said Mercy.

"Don't mistake improbability for impossibility. As much as I would _love_ for Superman's secrets to expose themselves, this might be a case where my vindication comes hand-in-hand with mankind's condemnation."

* * *

 **Great Basin Desert – Central Nevada**

It was the hardest part of every military operation – assessing a mission that had gone horribly wrong. Any uniformed officer with any level of military experience would agree. These kinds of operations presented an agonizingly challenge that few were equipped to handle.

General Samuel Lane had overseen his share operations. Plenty had gone wrong in ways he didn't care to contemplate. He distinguished himself by having a strong stomach for failure. Unfortunately, that made him the United States Military's go-to guy for dealing with missions that failed with a special kind of horror.

"We're closing in on the site, General Lane," reported the captain of an unmarked Blackhawk helicopter. "We've established a two-mile perimeter and a containment unit arrived a half-hour ago. We've put up road blocks at every possible access point within a 50-mile radius."

"Better make it 100. We may be in the middle of desert, but a lot can happen in the middle of nowhere," said the General from the passenger seat of the aircraft. "Since Waller called me personally, I'm assuming this is pretty bad."

"Sir, if the rumors I've heard are even half-true, then it's _much_ worse than that."

General Lane wanted to believe that the captain was just exaggerating. He left those beliefs behind in Washington. Amanda Waller didn't call in personal favors unless she had no choice and given the resources at her disposal, she had choices. Him being the only one genuinely worried him.

Sitting aboard Blackhawk helicopter, the General had been reading over a classified report since he took off from Edwards Air Force Base. This report contained a vague yet distressing account of the mission in question.

It began a little over three hours ago. An anomaly was detected in a remote section of Central Nevada. The report didn't go into detail about this _anomaly_ , but it worried enough people to warrant sending a team to investigate. The fact that this team involved a dozen highly trained Spec-Ops units was telling enough, but the fact they all went offline was even more disturbing.

There was no explanation. The report didn't even speculate at one. It just said that when the unit approached the site of the anomaly, the communications operator registered something the report described as "horrified screams." General Lane worked with Spec-Ops units. These were the kinds of soldiers who tried all their lives to _not_ scream, regardless of the horror.

The report only got more vague from there, saying that all efforts at re-establishing communication had failed. When a scout drone was sent to survey the site, the communications operator apparently became ill. That was another bad sign. It also meant that meant this situation had to be contained before the horror could spread.

With several other heavily armed helicopters and a couple of fighter jets as an escort, General Lane's helicopter approached the site. He set the report aside as the aircraft landed on a makeshift landing pad within a dried up riverbed inside the perimeter. Near this riverbed, a makeshift command post had been set up with a couple of heavy vehicles, complete with three squads of marines and a couple of heavy tanks.

As General Lane gazed out the window, he saw a lot of activity. Soldiers and officers were scrambling, looking too panicked for trained military personal. Whatever had gone wrong must have been a special kind of failure.

"We're here, sir," announced the captain. "By Ms. Waller's order, I'm to remain on this craft and be ready for takeoff at a moment's notice."

"No need to make excuses, son. I wasn't gonna ask you to tag along. It's probably best you _not_ confirm those rumors you heard," said General Lane.

"Um…thank you, sir."

The captain nodded – him and his co-pilot letting out a sigh of relief. They got to stay behind and leave quickly. That might make them the luckiest ones on this site.

With the file in hand, General Lane stepped off the helicopter. Unlike the captain, he had no intention of avoiding the horror. As soon as he stepped onto the dry desert terrain, he barged past a few officers and began making his way to the site. He didn't even check in with the personnel at the nearby command post. He just started walking towards the site where this horrible failure of a mission began.

He barely took two steps before a squad of marines surrounding him, acting as his escort. They moved swiftly, yet anxiously. He could tell from the look in their eyes that they hadn't seen the site, but they had heard the same rumors. One of the officers – a Colonel, if his uniform was any indication – ran over to greet him. If the pale expression on his face was any indication, these rumors had already been confirmed.

"General Lane! Thank…thank God, you're here," said the Colonel breathlessly. "I…I heard you were on your way. If anyone can help us assess this…this situation, it's you. We're all just…"

General Lane raised his hand to silence him, but continued walking towards the site.

"Don't start, Colonel. Save your breath. I can already tell that you've been throwing up – more than once, from what I gather," said General Lane.

"I um…probably should've skipped lunch…or several," said the Colonel sheepishly as he anxiously followed. "I was the first one to survey the damage. I thought I was ready. I've overseen more than a dozen missions – including operations against drug cartels, Qurac death camps, and genocidal warlords. I've seen more than my share of atrocities – terrible atrocities that give even hardened soldiers nightmares. But this – this is _way_ beyond that."

General Lane started walking faster. He could already see the site up ahead. A special tent had been erected around it. There were several guards around it, each wearing darkened masks and helmets. As he approached, he saw their hands trembling as they clenched their rifles. They must have seen it too.

He walked out in front of his marine escorts, signaling them to stay back. It might be best to minimize exposure to the site. He didn't need these soldiers enduring more nightmares than they already had. Only the Colonel dared to keep up with him. He actually ran out in front, keeping him from entering the tent.

"Sir, before you enter, there's something else you need to know," said the Colonel, still breathless and pale.

"If you're trying to stall, Colonel, I should warn you that I carry a side-arm," said General Lane sternly.

"I'm not stalling. I know you've already read the report. I know you've heard the rumors. But there's one detail that Waller wants to keep quiet – one that only a very small handful of people know. And _you_ need to be one of them."

"Can I assume there's a damn good reason for that?"

"There is, sir."

The Colonel leaned in closer, making sure none of the marines nearby overheard it. This information was too sensitive for even a classified report so it could only be whispered.

"The anomaly the team investigated – it's alien," he said.

"Alien? Are you sure?" said General Lane in a muted tone.

"Definitely," said the Colonel. "Before everything went…badly, they said it looked like some kind of pod. We don't know where it came from, but it definitely wasn't Earth. It had these strange markings on it and was radiating some energy that made all our instruments go haywire. We tried to process what we could, but then the pod opened and…"

His words then trailed off. He sounded like he was about to throw up again. General Lane stopped him before that happened.

"At ease, Colonel. Let me see for myself," he said, pushing the officer aside.

"I…hope you have a strong stomach, sir," said the Colonel.

He finally entered the tent to assess the horror. The moment he set foot inside, the hardened military officer did something he had trained his whole life to avoid. He froze.

Before him – illuminated by a row of portable lamps – was the nightmare of war in its most vivid form. In the center of the tent was the large pod the Colonel described. It stood no larger than trailer, but it was the area around the pod where the atrocity unfolded.

Within this area, the bodies of the Spec-Ops team – the dozen brave soldiers tasked with investigating this anomaly – littered the charred sands. They hadn't just been killed either, but General Lane bet they wished they had died sooner.

Whoever did this – or whatever, as might be the case – was sadistic on a level that defied description. The bodies had been bloodied, desecrated, and mutilated with the utmost cruelty. They had been stripped of their uniforms, either ripped off or burned off, as indicated by the charred clothing strewn around the site. Their legs had been broken, their arms had been crushed, and various body parts had been removed with surgical precision. They were crippled in a way that ensured they could not fight back or escape. Yet that still wasn't the worst of it.

"Mother of God…" he said under his breath.

General Lane had to cover his mouth to hide his revulsion. That proved difficult because beyond being crippled, these poor soldiers had been maimed in other, more sadistic ways. Eyes had been cut out, genitals had been removed, and internal organs had been exposed – all while the men were still alive. They had to have been alive because their eyes were still open, frozen with the horror and agony they endured in their final moments.

Such horror led General Lane to come to a terrifying yet unavoidable conclusion. The accomplished military officer in him saw the connections. These connections – on top of the alien nature of the pod – had some _very_ disturbing implications.

"It – whatever _it_ was – kept them alive," surmised General Lane. "First, they tried to fight back. Then, he subdued them. Finally – when he made it so none of them could escape – it tortured them. It tortured them long and hard."

"Yeah…we sort of figured that, sir," said the Colonel, still resisting the urge to throw up again. "We uh…don't know what this _thing_ was after. These people were Spec-Ops. There's any number of things they could've told it."

"What makes you think it wanted intel?" asked General Lane. "If it's as alien as that pod, what use could it be?"

"That's…something we're still trying to figure out, sir."

General Lane didn't expect the Colonel to come up with an answer. That might be why Waller brought him in. They hoped he would have an answer. Given his vocal criticism of all things alien, he had more incentive than most. This might be one instance where that didn't matter.

Swallowing his disgust, General Lane knelt down at one of the dead soldiers. This poor young man had it especially rough. One of his eyes had been ripped out, half his teeth had been shattered, and his arms had been broken so bad that his bones poked through his skin. A look of utter horror and agony was frozen on his face. General Lane couldn't undo that agony, but he could at least close the young man's remaining eye and allow him to rest in peace.

"Rest easy, soldier," he told the mutilated body. "I swear I'll find whoever – _whatever_ did this to you!"

It was a solemn promise that might be difficult to keep, even with his status, but these brave soldiers deserved better. An atrocity like this couldn't stand. Alien or no alien, this was an egregious injustice that had to be righted.

"Sir, while we don't know if this _thing_ wanted any intel, we do have a lead of sorts," said the Colonel.

"What kind of lead?" asked General Lane.

"I had a feeling you'd want to follow it up. I was afraid you'd want to follow it this quickly. I know we don't have the luxury of waiting for our stomachs to settle, but…"

"Just take me to it, Colonel. Don't make me shoot you in the kneecaps," said General Lane in as serious a tone as any officer could.

The Colonel swallowed what remained of his disgust and gestured towards the other side of the tent. He led General Lane over a few more mutilated bodies, ignoring the ghastly sights and smells they exuded. While this sight was horrible enough, there was another layer to this atrocity that actually made it worse.

Walking quickly and anxiously, the Colonel eventually led General Lane to a small area in the corner of the tent where a few female officers were kneeling down over a gurney. When they approached, the officers immediately stood up and acknowledged General Lane's presence. However, he could tell by the pale looks on their faces that they were just as horrified as everyone else.

"General Lane," one of the female officers greeted with a salute.

"Step aside, soldier. Let me see," ordered General Lane.

They both did as he requested, stepping aside so he could see what they had been tending to. As General Lane approached the gurney, he saw a bruised and battered woman lying on it. She had been stripped naked like all the others, her body now covered by a blanket. And like the others, she had been tortured.

An eye had been removed. Half her teeth had been ripped out. Her jaw was swollen and both arms were in casts. Whatever flesh remained exposed had been covered in bruises, burns, or various marks of torment. The only thing that set her apart from the other battered bodies was that she was still alive. This alien – this _monster_ didn't even have the mercy to end this poor woman's suffering. If General Lane didn't have enough incentive before, he sure did now.

"What is her name and rank?" asked General Lane as he gently brushed the dirt off the woman's face.

"Her name is Major Sandra Lee," said one of the female officers, "one of only seven women to lead her own Spec-Ops team. Graduated at the top of her class at the Virginia Military Institute, served in 13 successful operations, received multiple commendations from the Pentagon – not a blemish on her record to be found. Basically, if God wanted to make the perfect female officer, _she_ would be the template."

"Then she damn well better live," he said sternly.

"She will," said the officer, "although that's not much consolation. She was tortured like all the others. But this – whatever monster did this – didn't just torture her. He made her _watch_ as she tortured her squad. Then, when it was…done, it focused on her."

"It was bad – the worst I've ever seen and I've seen Qurac death camps," said the other female officer. "After or during the torture, this thing _raped_ her."

"Raped her?" questioned General Lane. "I thought this thing was alien. How did it rape her?"

"We don't know. It is alien. That, we know for sure. But she's definitely been raped. We um…saw the signs. Plus, she described it to us…in vivid detail."

"Why the hell would she do that?" exclaimed General Lane.

The two female officers still struggled to process this. They were as just as great a loss as the Colonel over this atrocity. However, they didn't end up answering. Major Lee did it for them. Despite unimaginable pain, she opened her one eye and coughed up some blood. She then grasped General Lane's arm and told him the terrible truth.

"Because… _he_ told me to," she said in a raspy voice.

"Major Lee, you should…" began General Lane, only to be cut off.

"No. I…I must," said the Major, her voice echoing the broken spirit. "He…let me live. He…wanted me to live – wanted me to tell you…what he did to me…and my squad. He wants…all of us…to know that he's here."

"Then tell me, Soldier? _Who_ is this alien monster? And where did he go?" asked General Lane, already prepared to go to war with this menace.

"His name…is Tyr-El," she answered. "He's…from Krypton. He's the creator…of the Legion of Doomsday. And he's come to Earth…to rebuild his army."

* * *

 **Up next: Strategic Atrocity**


	2. Strategic Atrocity

**Broken Legacy**  
 **Chapter 2: Strategic Atrocity**

* * *

 **Great Basin Desert – Earlier**

"We're closing in on the coordinates," announced Major Sandra Lee. "Keep your weapons ready! We don't know what we're about to find. Assume we might have to shoot it."

"Yes ma'am!" a squad of disciplined Spec-Ops soldiers replied.

The orders were simple. The specifics of the mission were not. It wasn't every day that Amanda Waller ordered a Special Operations team to investigate an anomaly on American soil, but these days had become uncomfortably common lately. The arrival of Superman and the invasion of Darkseid made alien threats a legitimate concern and one to take very seriously.

For this very reason, Ms. Waller tasked Major Lee with investigating a potentially alien anomaly that crashed in the Nevada desert less than an hour ago. They didn't know much. Ms. Waller just told them to assume this wasn't a meteor. How they determined this was never revealed. Major Lee chose not to ask for specifics. If this was another alien threat like Darkseid, then she would operate on a shoot-first policy.

The men and women of this team understood her policy clearly. They each had specially-modified assault rifles, courtesy of Lexcorp, which packed a greater punch than anything they had four years ago. Every soldier kept their fingers on the trigger as the two armored transport vehicles closed in on the coordinates. In the late afternoon sun, they could still see traces of smoke rising from the site.

"I see it!" said one of the soldiers, surveying the site with a pair of binoculars. "There's still plenty of heat, but no signs of anything living – not the kind we can detect anyways."

"Park the transports around the coordinates and surround it from all sides," ordered Major Lee. "If there is something alive, let's make sure it doesn't sneak off without a few bullet wounds."

"Yes ma'am!" said the soldier driving the vehicle.

As they closed in on the site, clouds of sand descended over the area. Each armored transport swiftly and skillfully navigated the barren desert, eventually arriving at their destination. This gave them their first look at the anomaly.

The first thing Major Lee and her squad noticed was the size of the object. It wasn't as big as Ms. Waller led them to believe. It probably could've fit inside a typical dump trunk. However, it was definitely no meteor. It was shaped like a large egg, covered in a black, crystalline shell that looked too polished to be natural. In addition to its exotic shape, it also left quite a mark on the area around it. All the sand within a 25-foot radius of the site had been charred black, taking on the exotic properties of the anomaly. Everything about it seemed too exotic to be natural.

"There's no crater," one of the soldiers pointed out.

"That's because it didn't impact. It _landed_ ," said Major Lee.

Already inclined to shoot it, Major Lee exited the armored transport the moment it stopped. Every other soldier in the squad soon followed.

"All units surround the anomaly!" she ordered. "Do not engage just yet. Waller wants us to analyze it first."

"Yes ma'am!" the team obediently replied.

"You'd still rather shoot it, wouldn't you?" commented the soldier next to her.

"Hell, I'd _nuke_ the damn thing," she retorted, "but it's not my call. This is what Waller wants. Let's give it to her, but let's not wait too long to blow it up."

Within seconds, the squad surrounded the anomaly. They all kept their guns pointed at it from every angle, waiting anxiously for the order they knew the Major wanted to give. Before that order could come, they had a job to do.

"Lieutenant, do a quick scan," said Major Lee. "At least that way we can say we _tried_."

"I'll make it quick, ma'am," said the female lieutenant next to her.

Carefully and cautiously, the lieutenant lowered her assault rifle and approached the anomaly. She then retrieved a special scanner she brought with her, which also came courtesy of Lexcorp. Lex Luthor claimed he created it after the Darkseid invasion and it could properly assess any alien threat. He made a lot of bold claims about his products. They needed this one to deliver.

Armed with this handheld scanner, the lieutenant began analyzing the anomaly. She started with the base and worked her way up, watching as data streamed across a small screen. It was too much to interpret initially, but it did offer some details.

"Well we can confirm one thing alright – this thing is definitely alien," said the Lieutenant. "There's no way this formed naturally. I'm picking up all sorts of strange alloys – the kind that come from labs and not meteors."

"Or alien labs in this case," said Major Lee. "Can you detect anything else before I give the order to shoot it?"

"It's hard to say," said the Lieutenant as she continued walking around the anomaly. "There's still heat coming from it. I can't tell it's just residual or if it's from something alive. I _can_ tell that it's giving off some low-level radiation – not the dangerous kind, but still noticeable. I'm not sure what to make of it, but this scanner is saying it's consistent with…"

The lieutenant never got to finish. While still trying to interpret the data, the relative silence of this lifeless desert was shattered when a crack in the anomaly formed. It actually formed right over an area where the lieutenant had been scanning. Her eyes widened with shock, but it never got a chance to wear off.

Another crack formed and a strange hissing sound erupted from the top of the anomaly. At that moment, Major Lee realized that this thing wasn't racking. It was opening. This gave her the excuse she had been waiting for.

"Whoa! I didn't do that!" exclaimed the Lieutenant as she fell back.

"Enough scanning!" said Major Lee, now staring down the sight of her rifle. "All units fire before…"

However, that was all she got out. Before she could give the order, a blinding beam of energy shot out from one of the cracks. It barely missed Major Lee and a couple of soldiers. However, it didn't miss one of the armored convoys, which blew up the moment the beam struck it – sending a defining blast across the desert landscape.

"Get down!" yelled Major Lee.

Her order was drowned out as basic fight-or-flight instincts overshadowed years of combat training. Most of the soldiers fell to the desert floor. Those that remained on their feet prepared to shoot back. Then, another crack in the anomaly formed and a similar beam of energy shot out, destroying the other armored convoy in a similar burst.

"Aaghhh!" the soldiers cried out as they tried to protect themselves from the blast.

Their armored transports now destroyed in a spectacular blast, Major Lee's squad was left dazed and disoriented. Ears rang. Time slowed – seconds turning into hours. As the team tried to reorient themselves, Major Lee looked up and tried to assess what or _who_ caused this such destruction. Her vision was still blurry, but it cleared just in time to see the anomaly open.

With smoke and steam still hissing from the exotic shell, two large panels opened to reveal an imposing figure. This figure was humanoid, bearing a powerful build on par with Superman. But unlike Superman, he had a distinctly pale complexion, white hair, and a black body suit that did not at all inspire truth and justice. He – assuming it was a _he_ – definitely wasn't human. When he opened his eyes, he showed an eerie yet menacing sense of calm.

"I have…arrived," he said in perfect English. "Finally, after all my searching…I made it to Earth."

"You…speak English?" said Major Lee distantly.

The being's gaze narrowed on the Major. As soon as she felt that gaze, she felt a shiver shoot up through her spine. She had seen enough hostile gazes to know when someone wasn't friendly. Rather than attempt a peaceful exchange between mankind and an alien, she gripped her rifle and tried to rise up. She barely got halfway before the figure reacted.

Moving in a blur too fast to be human, the figure kicked away Major Lee's weapon and grabbed her by the neck. His hand felt like a heavy steel vice, cold and unbreakable. She instinctively tried to resist his grip, but she might as well have tried to resist the setting sun. It did not matter.

"Good. My translation matrix is in working order," said the figure. "That means my anatomy scanners should be intact as well."

The ominous figures eyes flashed briefly, becoming dark red for a moment. His grip also tightened around Major Lee's throat, causing her to choke under his ominous gaze.

"Major Lee!" shouted one of the soldiers, who was still recovering from the earlier blast.

"Ack! Shoot…it!" choked the Major.

Some managed to recover quick enough to shoot. The shots they got off did little damage. They hit the figure, but he barely flinched. In fact, he actually smirked somewhat. His eyes still flashing, his gaze on Major Lee narrowed.

"Scan complete. Your human anatomy is…intriguing," he said in an exceedingly disturbing tone, "and Tyr-El of the Clan of El doesn't say that lightly. Your inherent hostility is a nice bonus. I should be able to make this work. Unfortunately, I'll need to send a _message_ through you and your fellow warriors. I must warn you though – it's going to _hurt_."

With every soldier in the squad now shooting at him, this being who called himself Tyr-El began tearing off Major Lee's uniform. Angered and enraged, they all converged around the being in a full-scale attack.

However, Major Lee already knew it would do them little good. She could tell by the tone in this being's voice that this battle was already over. She and her squad had no chance. He believed him completely when she said she was going to suffer. All she could do was brace herself for the horror to come.

* * *

 **Mount Olympus – Forge of Hephaestus**

Throughout the history of the Amazons, their faith in the gods had been tested. Through numerous battles of great hardship and various stories of sordid affairs, the power of the gods and their commitment to the virtues they espoused often came into question. Diana and her sisters prided themselves on their piety, holding onto their faith through harsh tribulations and harsher revelations.

In the end, however, it wasn't the gods that undermined Diana's faith. It was her own sisters. No sordid affair or petty grievance could compare to the Amazons' egregious hypocrisy. They preached love and honor, but practiced atrocity and disdain. How could they call themselves honorable warriors in light of such hypocrisy?

"Your presence in my forge is rarely a good omen, Diana. Your continued silence is even more distressing," said Hephaestus, who was hard at work pounding away at his latest creation.

"I don't mean to disturb you, God of Smithing. I just…needed a place to think," said Diana as she paced restlessly amidst this cluttered domain.

"And of all the places in Olympus – from the fields of Elysium to the chambers of Aphrodite – you come _here_?" said Hephaestus in bemusement.

"A noisy forge might not be very _serene_ ," she conceded, "but it can provide a unique _perspective_ – one that is unique to the challenge I have before me."

Hephaestus shook his head, still more focused on his craft than the complicated dealings of the gods and the Amazons. In many respects, he was lucky. He rarely had to worry about such dealings affecting him. He just minded his own business, tending to his forge. If only Diana's troubles could be so simple.

As Hephaestus hammered away, Diana's gaze fell upon the cloaked figures that aided him. However, these figures weren't just faceless minions. They were the sons of the Amazons – the same sons they so heartlessly discarded after murdering their fathers. Learning that she was the daughter of Zeus had been hard enough. Finding out that these men – these Amazon men – had been cast aside by her sisters had been so much harder.

It didn't just undermine her understanding of what it meant to be an Amazon. It complicated the path forward.

"These men – they don't deserve such a fate," said Diana distantly.

"You speak as though my forge is a circle of Hades. I'd say I'm insulted, but my brother has called it _far_ worse," said Hephaestus.

"I don't mean to speak ill of your forge, Hephaestus. I know you've cared for these men – tending to them so that they are free from want and suffering. It's just not fair that they had so little say in their fate."

"Would it make you feel better if their choices were exceedingly limited? Even by fate standards?"

"No. It wouldn't," said Diana, shaking her head definitively. "Their fate was built on a legacy of atrocities. Their mothers threw them away – after slaughtering their fathers, no less. I wouldn't at all blame them if they chose this rather than consort with my sisters."

"I want to take that as a compliment, but even a god's sense of humor has limits."

"It still doesn't matter. They never got to make such a choice. These men have Amazon blood in their veins. They are, by every measure, as much an Amazon as any sister. And yet, we reject them. We cling blindly to tradition and hate – our hearts hardened to the winds of change."

Diana hugged her shoulders and shed a tear – not an easy feat in an active forge. She couldn't even tell if Hephaestus was still listening. He could only care so much for affairs outside his forge. Diana didn't have that luxury and couldn't keep avoiding it.

As she lamented over her sisters' sins, she watched as cloaked men carried crates and tools throughout the forge. Every now and then, one of them would look towards her. However, they never looked for long. She could see in their eyes a mix of fear and anger. They knew on some levels that the Amazons had rejected them – their own mothers and sisters. Even if their life in this forge was one of comfort and dignity, they could not escape their heritage any more than her sisters.

"You know, it's not like your heart is of no consequence, Diana," said Hephaestus, pausing his smithing for a brief moment. "You are not your sisters. You were not part of this _legacy of atrocity_ , as you call it."

"Yes, I know," said Diana dryly. "I'm the daughter of Zeus and Hippolyta. I'm a product of infidelity. While not an act of virtue, it is _not_ an atrocity."

"Still an improvement, by most measures," said Hephaestus with a shrug.

"It doesn't matter how I was born. I am still tied to the legacy of the Amazons," she said solemnly, "and in my mother's absence, I'm expected to continue that legacy."

"That's right. You are technically the queen now. Granted, the circumstances of your title are…complicated."

"If only you could say that in a less _insensitive_ way," she muttered.

"Does it matter how I say it? It's still true, is it not? You have the authority to change that legacy. You could declare _tonight_ that this tradition of seduction, murder, and abandonment is over. You could even declare that Amazon men are welcome on Themyscira. So what's stopping you?"

Diana bowed her head solemnly again. Hephaestus made it sound so easy, as the gods often did. He was still right to some extent. After Hera turned her mother to stone, she became the acting queen of the Amazons. Her ability to wield such a title was in question by both her sisters and the gods, but by the letter of Amazon law, she was queen.

This title and all the responsibilities still felt hollow to her. Between her mother being turned to stone and her sisters questioning her ability to rule, Diana certainly didn't feel like a queen. That made acting as one all the more challenging.

"You're right. I _am_ queen. I _can_ decree anything I want and my sisters are honor bound to obey," said Diana.

"That still doesn't answer my question. What's stopping you?" Hephaestus reiterated.

"Because no decree can _unharden_ their hearts – not under the weight of so much atrocity," said Diana sadly. "This tradition has been going on for so long that they no longer see it as an atrocity. They see it as part of being an Amazon – the hatred of men, the rejection of their brothers, and the slaughter of innocents. It takes more than a decree to change _that_."

"That says nothing about the more _pragmatic_ issues. You do understand that if you were to stop that tradition, you'd effectively nullify the Amazons' birth rate."

"Yes, I understand _that_ issue as well," said Diana, rolling her eyes. "As warriors, we're bound to fall in battle at some point. If we cannot birth new warriors, then the Amazons are doomed. Those are the exact words Aleka told me before I even broached this topic with her."

"That means she _thinks_ you want to. I doubt she's alone either. So in any case, you're in a powerless position of power – something I'd never thought I'd say about a demigod."

Hephaestus almost seemed bemused by her predicament, but not callous. He was one of the few gods who wasn't overly cruel with his assessment of mortal affairs. That was another reason Diana decided to come to his forge to contemplate this issue. Maybe he was right to be callous. She didn't choose this legacy, but right now she was the only one in a position to change it.

She finally stopped pacing and thought back to her conversation with Superman earlier. She recalled the pride with which he spoke of his legacy – what it took to build and what it had accomplished. She then recalled other legacies, like that of Batman's parents. They may have lived in the corrupt environment of Gotham, but they still forged an honorable legacy that Bruce carried with him.

These legacies made them stronger. Superman was a man from the stars. Batman was an ordinary mortal from an all-too-mortal world. She still loved her sisters and her home. She still believed in them as much as any Amazon could believe in their fellow warriors. They too deserved a legacy to be proud of.

"Maybe I am powerless in practice, but not in principle," said Diana. "I still have so much love for my sisters – my brothers – even the entire world that lies beyond the shores of my homeland."

"Do you really?" questioned Hephaestus.

This comment surprised Diana. She turned back towards Hephaestus, who was still pounding away at his forge. Her ability to be Wonder Woman, the daughter of Zeus, the Queen of Themyscira, and a full-time member of the Justice League had been questioned before. But nobody had dared question her capacity to love – not until now.

"What did you say, Hephaestus?" asked Diana, showing far less respect than usual for a god.

"You heard what I said, Diana. Are you going to answer my question or avoid it?" replied Hephaestus, almost casual in his demeanor.

"Avoid what? You _dare_ question my love for others?"

"Your lack of an answer is a telling answer, in and of itself," quipped the Smithing God. "You claim to have so much love in your heart. Few would doubt such a claim. But there's a difference between having love and _sharing_ it. You might have love that surpasses any god or mortal. What's the use of such love if it's never conveyed?"

Diana opened her mouth to respond. However, no words came out. Much to her chagrin, there was nothing she could say to discount Hephaestus' words. She remained inclined to question it, but Hephaestus didn't give her a chance.

"Honestly, Diana, what do you expect others to think?" he said while scrutinizing his latest weapon. "You claim to love your sisters and home. Yet you live in man's world. You claim to love man's world. Yet you live alone in that world – fighting battles that need to be fought, but little else. You've literally put an ocean between you and everyone around you. How do you expect anyone to feel your love?"

"I let my actions speak for themselves," said Diana in an effort to save some face before a god.

"So do your sisters. So do men like Steve Trevor – who, I might add, went out of his way to confess his love to you. Yet what came of that? What love did you offer in response?"

This time, Diana didn't even try to respond. She just turned away again and shed another tear of sorrow. She remembered vividly the moment Steve confessed he was in love with her. She remembered how it affected her. It was so overwhelming for both of them – overwhelming in a way she wasn't ready for.

Steve loved her in a very specific way. He made that much abundantly clear. However, she couldn't love him in that same way. She tried to make that clear as well. It ended with him resigning his position as liaison to the Justice League before taking a position with ARGUS. It still pained her – the heartbreak he must have felt. Now, that pain took on a whole new dimension.

"I may know precious little of love, but I know a thing or two about crafting precious items from scrap," the God of Smithing continued. "You can love everyone all you want. The value of that love is meaningless if you never put in the blood, sweat, and tears to make something of it. Your sisters don't see you making the effort. Steve Trevor didn't see you make that effort. The question remains – will you or won't you make that effort?"

"I'm…certainly willing to make that effort," replied Diana. "I just don't know how to go about it."

Hephaestus shook his head and scoffed before setting his latest creation down on a cooling mantel – yet another reaction that left Diana taken aback.

"Now you've made it abundantly clear. You really _don't_ understand."

"I don't?" she questioned.

"Of course you don't," he said plainly. "If you did, you'd know that making something of love isn't about will. It's about _choice_. We gods make bold proclamations about fate and destiny, but there's always an element of choice. The choice to make something of the opportunities that fate presents us – the choice to pursue those opportunities when they come along – god and moral alike must recognize it. Because make no mistake – if we don't, then someone else will."

Hephaestus wasn't usually this harsh with his words, but he had to be – that or he had just become annoyed by Diana's lamenting. It was hard to tell and the Smithing god offered no further clues – opting to let his forge cool while he walked off to gather more ore.

Diana chose not to follow him. She had no desire to continue debating a god. Those debates rarely went anywhere after a certain point. Instead, she chose to leave the forge as fast as her flying abilities would take her. Hephaestus' words weren't as harsh as they could've been, but they cut deep.

Earlier this very day, she berated Superman for not understanding her plight – burdened by a tainted legacy and plagued with doubt over the future of that legacy. Now, she just proved she didn't understand either. She was more lost and conflicted than she dared to admit.

Even so, Hephaestus made a valid point. She didn't have the luxury of lamenting in ignorance. She was still Diana, the hero known as Wonder Woman and the de-facto Queen of the Amazons. Even if nobody else could empathize with her plight, she needed to start making hard choices – both for her sisters and for herself.

* * *

 **Daily Planet**

"Lane! You done writing that puff piece yet? I want it on the Planet's website within the hour," barked an impatient Perry White.

"I don't write puff pieces, Perry," replied Lois, not looking up from her computer screen. "You know how I feel at them. They belong in that tiny corner below Cat's Fashion Failures column and that ad for discount plumbing services."

"Call it whatever the hell you want. Just finish it already!" said Perry. "This exhibit with Superman is still news. Everyone's getting crazy over all things Kryptonian. We need to show we can stay sane."

" _And_ show up the competition with our exclusives, thereby making us look good," said Lois under her breath.

Perry didn't respond to that remark. He had already stormed past Lois' cubical towards one of the conference rooms. He was in another one of his high alert modes, as he called it. When a story major took over multiple news cycles, he liked to get ahead of the curve. That meant pushing his staff to get out the kinds of stories that other sources overlooked or couldn't get. This often meant exclusives, features, and interviews that nobody else could get.

For Lois, that often meant using her personal history with Superman to get the story. She didn't usually mind that, although there were times when Perry really pushed it. He wanted her to probe for intimate details the likes of which she didn't feel comfortable asking about, especially to someone who had saved her life on multiple occasions. It put her in some difficult positions with Perry in recent years, as well as other reporters.

Rumors about her relationship with Superman often bogged down her ability to actually report the news. It made for some unusual _challenges_ to say the least. Some of them lessened once her boyfriend, Jonathan Carroll, came into the picture, but new challenges always had a way of emerging.

This time, however, there weren't any alien armies to avoid or corrupt businessmen to harass her. For once, she could just write a simple piece about the new Krypton exhibit at the museum while throwing in a few exclusive quotes for good measure.

' _Sharing your legacy – opening your species to scrutiny – giving us lowly apes a glimpse of the technology you hide in that fortress of yours – I want to say this counts as progress, Superman. If nothing else, it gives Lex Luthor a few less things to complain about. But I'm not still not sure you've thought this through.'_

As Lois reviewed the final paragraph of her article, she remembered how private and reserved he used to be. It was one of the many reasons why any romantic feelings she ever felt for him never went beyond a certain point. It was also one of the few reasons that made Lex Luthor's criticism of him legitimate.

He insisted on being a hero – a beacon of good that ordinary people could turn to during times of difficulty. That was all well and good, but he wanted to do this while keeping details about his history, his species, and his personal life private. She trusted that he had good reasons. He had done more than enough to earn her trust. For the rest of the world, however, such trust was harder to come by. This gave her a few small, but unavoidable reservations.

' _You didn't say it outright, but I think you want to set yourself apart from the Justice League. You want to be in that spotlight. You want to be that symbol of truth, justice, and the American way on a much larger scale.'_

She smiled and shook her head. She might be the only one who knew Superman well enough to understand his ambition. And unlike most men of great ambition, he could actually do it.

' _It still means appealing to more than just the American way. So you give us a glimpse of Krypton. You show us your world, knowing full-well that an alien culture is bound to fill us with awe. Even those who don't trust you will still be impressed. You'll still be able to say that you put yourself out there. But if you think you understand the kind of scrutiny you're going to face moving forward, then for once I can actually say you're wrong. I just hope I never have to tell you.'_

Lois put the finishing touches on her article, running a quick spell check before adding her signature at the end. This article probably wouldn't satisfy Perry's insatiable need to have the Daily Planet upstage the competition at least once a day, but it would give him what he asked for. That was often the best anyone could hope for.

She was about to send the article to Perry to officially complete her biggest project of the day. That's when Jimmy Olsen came running towards her desk from across the office.

"Hey Lois! _Please_ tell me you weren't about to head out. Something's…come up," said Jimmy, short of breath by the time he reached her cubical.

"Whoa there! Take a breath, Jimmy," said Lois, "or join a gym, for that matter. You look like you just ran a mile and puked."

"You're only _half_ -right," he replied. "You remember that list of names you gave me? The one where if they ever showed up here looking for you, I had legal permission to throw them out the nearest window?"

"I remember giving that list to more than just you, but yeah."

"Well…I hope you don't sue me because I had to make an exception."

Lois looked at the young man with a raised eyebrow, still concerned by his anxiously demeanor. That concern quickly faded when she saw another figure heading towards her desk, shoving some of her co-workers out of the way in the process. It was indeed a name on that list she mentioned – one that happened to be near the top.

"Lois, we need to talk," said General Sam Lane upon reaching her desk.

"Five famous words from one infamous voice that always ruin my day," said Lois as she shot up from her desk. "What is it, _General_?"

"I don't have time for the attitude today, Lois – especially not from my _daughter_ ," he said, emphasizing that last part.

"Since when is _that_ news?" she scoffed, folding her arms callously. "You haven't had _time_ since my junior prom. What finally changed? You finally getting around to militarizing the Daily Planet? Tell me now so I can quit!"

General Lane was about to respond, ready to rehash every losing argument he ever had with her. Then Jimmy, of all people, stepped between them and stopped them.

"It's not that, Lois. He actually came _alone_ this time," Jimmy told her.

"You sure? I'll bet he has Navy SEALS waiting in the snack lounge," scoffed Lois.

"Seriously Lois, you gotta listen to him!" he yelled. "This is something you _need_ to hear."

Lois was taken aback. She was used to people defending her father, but not Jimmy. That anxious look on his face became downright serious. Jimmy didn't usually get serious unless something was _really_ wrong. The fact that it involved her father made her even more nervous.

"I had a feeling you would storm off if I came to you directly. That's why I asked to see Mr. Olson first," said General Lane, his voice still as stern as ever.

"In my defense, you came here with an entire assault team because you thought we were protecting Superman," retorted Lois.

"I wasn't totally wrong," he pointed out.

"But you weren't even _close_ to right," said Lois.

"That's debatable," the General replied, "but Mr. Olsen here can vouch for me this time."

"Please don't drag me into this more than you already have," Jimmy groaned. "I already gave you my signal watch and made sure Lois didn't punch you. What more do you want from me?'

Now Lois was more than nervous. She now wanted to punch Jimmy _almost_ as much as her father.

"You gave him your signal watch?!" Lois exclaimed. "The same watch Superman gave you – and _only_ you – to contact him when it was absolutely necessary?"

"Keep it down, Lois! I don't need people knowing who I may or may not have on speed dial," said Jimmy, gesturing her to lower her voice. "And believe me, I wouldn't give that watch to the President unless it was _that_ necessary."

"Are you saying it is?" said Lois skeptically.

"Yes Lois. It _is_ ," said her father definitively.

He shoved Jimmy aside. He had done enough of the talking. General Lane didn't have time to wait for his daughter to stop hating him enough to hear him out. He came here for a reason and for once, she might actually respect that reason – although he didn't get his hopes up.

"You and your friends at the Daily Planet place such an emphasis on truth," said the General, as critical of his daughter as ever. "You love reporting raw, unfiltered stories that are high on truth and low on context. You like to let the facts speak for themselves, as though they've ever spoken clearly. Well before you write your next article, why don't you take a look at _these_ facts?"

With a casual callousness, General Lane opened an unmarked folder that he had been carrying under his arm and retrieved a stack of photos. He then shoved them into his daughter's hand, making sure she couldn't brace herself from what they depicted.

"Oh my…" gasped Lois.

Her eyes widened. She covered her mouth to muffle a string of curses that would've attracted attention from the entire office. Her reaction was just what he expected and hoped for. While no father enjoyed seeing his daughter horrified, Lois needed to experience this horror to get the point across.

The photos were graphic, uncensored images of Major Sandra Lee's doomed Spec-Ops team. They vividly captured the brutality, torture, and carnage these innocent soldiers endured. Some focused on the blood wounds they had suffered. Others focused on the unique precision with which they were tortured. They all conveyed the same horrifying message.

Under normal circumstances, the military would censor such imagery and lock it away for decades. But these weren't normal circumstances.

"Those pictures were taken less than six hours ago" said General Lane. "They weren't committed by an invading army or some bloodthirsty tyrant. No _human_ could inflict that kind of cruelty on their fellow man."

"So that means…" said Lois, still catching her breath as she sifted through the photos.

"Yes. The monster that did this was alien – a Kryptonian, to be precise," said General Lane. "It wasn't Superman, but it was a Kryptonian."

"How…how do you know for sure?"

"We know, Lois. We know in more than we wish we knew."

Lois wasn't inclined to believe her father, especially on issues involving aliens and Superman. A big reason why she hated being in the same zip code as him was his inability to see Superman as anything other than a threat. However, when he said that this carnage was caused by a Kryptonian, she believed him.

She didn't want to believe him, but she had seen Superman's impressive feats on too many occasions to ignore the signs. Some of these photos showed the distinct marks of heat burns consistent with Superman's heat vision. One poor victim had all his limbs forcibly ripped off so cleanly that it could only have been done with superhuman strength – the kind a Kryptonian would wield.

This had all sorts of disturbing implications. That still assumed that her father was telling her the truth. However, the more Lois gazed at these photos, the more inclined she felt to believe him.

"I'm not officially authorized to show them to civilians, but I know how little you care for rules. So I figured you'd appreciate it," said General Lane.

"It took something like _this_ to get you to bend the rules?" questioned Lois.

"I didn't need to bend them much," he retorted. "I showed these photos to Mr. Olson as well. That's why he agreed to help me."

"Yeah, and I had a similar, less _censored_ reaction," said Jimmy, who avoided looking at the photos.

"I won't hold it against you, Jimmy. I'm just…not sure what I'm supposed to do with these," said Lois as she flipped through the ghastly photos.

"Then allow me to give you some options," said General Lane.

"I'm pretty sure I know what _that_ implies," said Lois.

"I don't think you do," said General Lane. "Contrary to what you might think, I'm not a heartless bastard. I am _bothered_ when something like this happens to innocent American soldiers – be it from some tyrannical warlord or some alien monster. But I don't care if you refuse to believe that. Because regardless of what you believe, this thing is _here_. He's here and he just sent us a powerful message."

As soon as Lois finished looking at the final picture, General Lane took the stack of photos from her and put them back in the folder. She still refused to look him in the eye, her expression still dominated by the horror she saw in those gruesome images. He hoped that horror stuck with her because he wasn't done making unreasonable requests of her.

"This thing – this alien – he can do more than hurt us," he continued. "He's able and willing to commit horrendous atrocities against people who have no hope of defending themselves. I want to stop him. I know you want to stop him. I even accept Superman wants to stop him."

"And you came to me because you can't get Superman to work with you without _my_ help," surmised Lois.

"That's only part of the reason. There are other ways we can help each other – ways I'm sure you're not going to like. You may even use them as an excuse to hate me even more."

"I'll assume it'll _upset_ me at the very least," said Lois.

"It doesn't matter how many excuses you have," he continued. "At the end of the day, I'm still your father. And I know you've always placed more value on the truth than your own family. If you want to know the truth about this monster – this Kryptonian who maimed these innocent soldiers – you'll help me."

A sick feeling formed in the pit of her stomach. Lois tensed under her father's harsh gaze. She thought she had stopped being intimidated by him years ago. Unfortunately, these were unusual circumstances – unusual and disturbing.

She could already hear her brain yelling at her, urging her not to listen to her father. He couldn't possibly be telling her the full story. He had to have an agenda – a corrupt, subversive agenda. However, her brain couldn't numb that sick feeling in her stomach – the one evoked by those graphic photos, the imagery of which was still so fresh in her mind. This led to one inescapable decision.

Lois couldn't avoid the truth. There was a story here – one that needed to be exposed. Nobody else was in a position to tell it. She had to be the one and doing so meant trusting her father.

"What do you need me to do…General?" asked Lois, not hiding her bitterness.

"Come with me," replied General Lane, while holding up Jimmy's signal watch. "I need to arrange a meeting with Superman. Before we do anything about this alien threat, there's someone he needs to talk to."

* * *

 **Fortress of Solitude**

It had been a good day for the Man of Steel – a momentous day, even. The opening of the Kryptonian exhibit at the museum was a complete success. He had been following the reaction since he left the closing ceremony. If the buzz on the internet and news feeds were any indication, the response was overwhelmingly positive.

This was just what the he needed. It was just what the Justice League needed – an open and positive exchange of ideas. It demonstrated that ordinary people could connect with beings of extraordinary power. Superman and the Justice League didn't have to be these larger-than-life figures of modern myth. They could share in their culture, their heritage, and their legacy. He didn't expect everyone in the Justice League to follow suit, but he did hope to set an example.

As positive as the initial response had been, Superman's decision to be so open had its share of critics. After returning to his Fortress of Solitude to finalize his new partnership with the Metropolis museum, he got into a debate with his most vocal critic via the holographic communicator.

" _I did one last review of the data crystals. I processed every last bite of information. I broke down and rebuilt the entire AI you programmed for the exhibit. And my opinion hasn't changed,"_ said Batman, his brooding demeanor showing even through a hologram.

"You _still_ think I'm making a mistake," said Clark, rolling his eyes, "even after Bruce Wayne officially donated to the effort."

" _As Bruce Wayne, I support peaceful, philanthropic efforts that improve understanding and goodwill. As Batman, however, I'm hesitant to put the Justice League under this kind of scrutiny."_

"Is it really the League your worried about? Or just yourself?" questioned Clark. "Are you _that_ intent on staying in the shadows, Bruce?"

" _This isn't about staying in shadows. It's about walking directly into the public eye, exposing yourself and your people to every kind of criticism,"_ he said more critically.

"I know the risks. I've weighed every one of them – for myself, the Justice League, and even you," said Clark. "I still believe this is the right thing to do."

" _The right thing is rarely this personal. And when things get personal, they tend to get complicated – often in ways we don't expect."_

Clark shook his head. Winning an argument with Batman was beyond even Superman's strength. Bruce had a knack for being paranoid to an extreme. The lengths he went to in order to protect his identity, his methods, and his persona bordered on excessive, even by Justice League standards. Even though he knew Bruce's identity, he insisted on keeping his cowl lined with lead. It worried Clark at times, but more often than not, it just frustrated him.

"Someone in the League had to be personal. Someone had to put themselves out there," said Superman, "and we both know _you_ weren't going to be the one to do it."

" _That, we can agree on,"_ conceded Batman.

"You know as well as I do that we need the people to trust us. We can't earn that trust by hiding out in our caves and Watchtowers all day, never sharing who we are or where we come from."

" _That, I can only agree with in part,"_ replied the Dark Knight.

"Then can we at least agree that this is a risk worth taking?" he asked. "One where the potential rewards more than outweigh the risk?"

There was a brief pause over the communication link. Then, with only a brief bit of thought, Batman gave his answer.

" _No,"_ he said definitively. _"It isn't."_

Superman rolled his eyes again. For a second there, he thought that Batman might be willing to consider the world outside the shadows. He should've known better.

"Well it's too late now. What's done is done. The exhibit is up. Krypton's legacy is out there for the people to embrace or reject," said Superman with folded arms.

" _Fine,"_ said Batman flatly. _"You just better be ready to deal with the fallout if and when it backfires."_

"I won't let that happen."

" _Famous last words,"_ he retorted.

"I don't expect to convince you, Bruce," said Clark, "but we have to be willing to take these kinds of risks. If the League is going to fight bigger and tougher battles, we have to put ourselves out there. We also have to be willing to help each other. I know that's an alien concept to you, but we can't keep our affairs so impersonal if we're to be an effective team."

" _Now you're just trying to change the subject,"_ said Batman, _"and if I had to guess, you're about to bring up what's going on with Wonder Woman."_

This caught Clark off-guard. That in and of itself was quite a feat, but one Batman was all too adept at. It was one of his most impressive – albeit annoying – qualities. He always stayed a step ahead of everybody, be it in the heat of battle or in a casual exchange between teammates.

Rather than waste time with another debate, Clark figured this was as good a time as any to confront this issue. Everyone else in the League knew about it – Diana being the daughter of Zeus and the barbaric practices of the Amazons. At some point, they had to confront it. Diana was still their teammate. And – while Batman might argue otherwise – she was also their friend.

"I'll…skip the part where I ask how you figured that out," said Clark.

" _I appreciate that,"_ said Batman, his tone still cold and flat.

"I'll also say we should offer to help her. I spoke to her earlier and she's…struggling to process everything."

" _That's to be expected,"_ he replied.

"Then let's skip the next part where you tell me you disagree," said Clark with folded arms, "because if you knew this was going to come up, then I assume you've already formed one of your _ironclad_ opinions."

There was another pause over the communication line. Batman didn't flinch in the slightest, nor did Clark expect him to. This already had the makings of another issue where they didn't see eye-to-eye. They might be on the same time, but the way they assessed a situation couldn't be more different.

" _It's a personal matter. Diana wants to deal with it on her own. We should let her,"_ said Batman, his position as concise and succinct as possible.

"Spoken like a man who just found another excuse to say in the shadows," retorted Clark.

" _Or a man who understands that Diana prefers to fight her own battles,"_ he quipped.

"This isn't a battle though. This is her entire world being upended – her identity being shaken to the core. That's not something you can punch your way out of."

" _It's also not something you can expect to help – not if you want to risk making it worse."_

"Shouldn't we be willing to take that risk? She's our _friend_ , Bruce," said Clark.

" _Friends know when to give each other space…unless you're willing to push that friendship into something you're not ready for,"_ retorted Batman.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" asked Clark defensively.

More silence over the line followed, but this time it was different. This time Clark heard a distinct shift in the Dark Knight's tone. It was the kind of tone Batman had when he felt he knew something that nobody else knew. Everyone else in the Justice League didn't care for it, but it was definitely telling – more so for Clark than his brooding teammate.

" _Let's not change the subject again. I doubt you want to have that conversation,"_ said Batman in his usual definitive tone.

"I'll agree with you and save myself the trouble this time," said Clark in a bemused tone.

" _I will say this though – you're showing more concern for Diana than most dare. Some of that concern might be warranted. Between her falling out with Steve Trevor and her dealings with her people, she's dealing with a lot – more so than she's willing to admit. But until she's willing to admit it, nobody should push her – not you, not me – anybody. She's a warrior. She's too proud to let anyone else bear the burden."_

"Speaking from observation or experience?" asked Clark.

" _Both,"_ he replied. _"There's a time and a place to talk to her about these issues. This is not one of those times."_

Clark was still prepared to argue that point. However, Batman made an undeniably valid point – another one of his frustratingly admirable traits. He still disagreed with his sentiment, but he couldn't deny its merits.

It was true. Diana was a warrior. She was the toughest, fiercest warrior on the planet, male or female. Her warrior spirit wouldn't allow her seek help, even when she needed it. Thinking back to their conversation at the museum, Clark couldn't deny her current mindset. She saw what happened with Steve Trevor and the Amazons as her battle to fight – her burden to bear. He couldn't begin to understand what she was going through. How could he – or anyone in the League, for that matter – help her in a meaningful way?

It was a difficult reality to accept, but one he couldn't get around. Shaking his head in dismay, Clark was prepared to end this discussion – having had enough losing debates with Batman for one day. Then, he heard a familiar radio ping with his super-hearing – one that could only come from one distinct source.

"Jimmy's signal watch – guess Batman isn't the only one fond of excuses," said Clark under his breath.

He prepared to finally end this one-sided conversation with Batman. Once again, the Dark Knight beat him to the punch.

" _I'm guessing there's trouble and you're about to fly off,"_ he said over the link.

"Do you ever get tired of guessing and being right?" said Clark with a half-grin.

" _More than you think – less than I care to admit."_

"I'll check in with the League later, Bruce. Diana's not the only one with personal battles to fight. not the only one with personal battles to fight.". Some are just personal for the right reasons."

" _Famous last words,"_ quipped the Dark Knight.

Superman closed the communication link, effectively ending this one-sided conversation. One of these days he would win an argument with Batman, but not today. For now, he was content to aid a friend who didn't attempt to hide in the shadows.

With the link closed, Superman activated a series of crystals on the main control console. He didn't intend to be back for a while so he made sure the Fortress would continue operating without him.

"Engage primary and secondary security matrix," he said to the console.

" _Security matrix engaged, Kal-El. Engaging standard lockdown procedures. Do you wish to continue your comprehensive review of Krypton's cultural archive matrix?"_

"Of course," said Superman casually as he flew off towards the main exit to the Fortress. "I'd like to contribute another Kryptonian exhibit at one point. Besides, there has to be _one_ thing on this planet I find out before Batman."

* * *

 **Outside Fortress of Solitude**

The skies over the Arctic were especially brisk during this time of year. It was a time when the sun was barely up for more than a few hours at a time and when brisk winds from Siberia blew clouds of snow that lasted for days. These were the kinds of harsh conditions that dissuaded anyone and anything from accessing the Fortress of Solitude, as if the advanced Kryptonian defenses weren't robust enough.

A single opening in the vast structure opened near the northwest corner for Superman to exit. He flew out into the cloudy, snowy expanses at such high speeds that only a reddish blue blur could be seen. Within a fraction of a second, Superman was gone in a sharp gust of wind – leaving behind his Fortress with all the certainty in the universe that it would remain secure. He had no idea just how wrong he was.

' _You're commitment to securing your peoples' heritage is admirable, Kal-El – admirable yet predictable. Your ancestors would be disappointed, but understanding. You've so much to learn. It just pains me to know that you must learn the hard way.'_

His tactics and cunning worked perfectly. Countless cycles of exile and isolation had not dampened Tyr-El's abilities. He could still outwit and outmaneuver anyone, be it an invading army or his own family. He might have lost his greatest battle ages ago, but he would _not_ lose the war he vowed to win.

A lot had changed since he fought that battle. Krypton was no longer a rising power, poised to dominate the galaxy with its strength and might. It was now nothing more than a lost world, a people destroyed by their own arrogance. In his absence, Krypton went down a different path – one they thought would lead to prosperity, security, and advancement. It made for a cruel yet fitting irony. They claimed his ways would destroy Krypton, but those same critics who purged his name from the annuls ended up destroying Krypton in an entirely different way. Had it not destroyed the home he once fought so hard to protect, Tyr-El might have found it humorous.

No matter how much had changed or how much he lost, the war was not over. Krypton might be lost, but its legacy could be saved. Kal-El could only do so much. The time had come for Legion of Doomsday to finish what it started all those ages ago.

"As long as I draw breath, the war will continue," said Tyr-El through the blistering cold. "Rao willing, the Legion of Doomsday will succeed!"

The first step in continuing this war lay within Kal-El's fortress. He waited a few more moments, ensuring Kal-El was far away and distracted with other matters – matters that also ensured their paths would cross again. Knowing this and that time was a factor, Tyr-El tapped into the same power that Kal-El had utilized and took to the sky.

Flying through the blinding snow, he soon arrived at the same opening that Kal-El had flown out of. That opening had since closed and was secure, protected by layers upon layers of Krypton's best defenses. It would've been impressive if it weren't so flawed.

As he approached the entrance, a robotic voice echoed from a panel on the side of the crystalline structure.

" _Halt!"_ said the voice. _"You are not Kal-El. You are not authorized to enter the Fortress of Solitude. Leave now or be subject to significant force."_

"Significant force?" scoffed Tyr-El. "I remember a time when our technology was less…passive."

" _Insufficient response. I repeat – leave now or significant force will be administered in 10 seconds – 10…9…8…"_

Tyr-El sneered at the system. He continued hovering in front of the entrance, completely unthreatened. He actually waited until the countdown got close to the end. Then, he won his next battle without firing a shot.

" _Override – House of El tertiary protocol – override code: hope and doom,"_ he said in his native Kryptonian tongue.

The countdown stopped. There was a strange noise from within the fortress, as though it struggled to process the order. It might even be resisting it, but its efforts were insufficient.

" _Override accepted. Entry granted,"_ said the system.

The panel opened, allowing Tyr-El to enter the Fortress of Solitude. He flew in to see a fairly extensive, albeit standard structure. It had all the marks of classic Kryptonian architecture, built on foundations of crystals and infused with Krypton's technology. It reminded him of some of the strongholds he had built during his era. It wasn't ideal, but it would suffice.

After surveying the bulk of the structure, he found the central command console. As expected, it contained some of the most sensitive Kryptonian hardware. Array upon array of data crystals lay embedded in a special processing system, each containing a galaxy's worth of data. He could tell by the light they exuded that they were processing incalculable amounts of data. Not all that data would be useful for his war, but he still intended to use it better than Kal-El could ever hope to.

"The legacy of Krypton – still intact, but lacking in glory," said Tyr-El distantly. "That glory has finally arrived!"

Reaching into a small sash, the old Kryptonian retrieved the only relic he brought with him on his journey. It was another crystal – one much smaller and less luminous than the others before him. While the technology within it was primitive and dated, its purpose could not be overstated.

With this special crystal in hand, Tyr-El forcibly jammed it into the array. Almost immediately, the light radiating from the crystal shifted – as if infected by a malicious energy. The entire Fortress reacted to this infection as well. Parts of it shook, once again fighting Tyr-El's influence. But just as before, it was no use.

" _Warning: malicious data clusters detected. Quantum data matrix destabilizing. Initiating emergency shutdown,"_ said the Fortress computer.

" _Override – continue operating under House of El tertiary protocol,"_ he said in his native tongue again. _"Redirect all processing power into the central hub. Decrypt and download the data clusters I specify."_

The system still resisted. It sensed something different in this code. Kal-El must have programmed it to act in accord with his personal standards. Already, the flaws in those standards had been exposed. He was no longer fit to build the legacy of the House of El. That duty once again fell on Tyr-El and the Legion of Doomsday.

"So many battles to fight – so many ways to fight them," he said distantly. "Krypton might be gone, but this feeble world will provide a sufficient foundation for a new legacy. And if they or Kal-El resists, then not even Rao will have mercy on them. I'll see to that."

* * *

 **Up next: Confrontation and Subjugation**


	3. Confrontation and Subjugation

**Broken Legacy  
Chapter 3: Confrontation and Subjugation**

* * *

 **Outside Metropolis – Lexcorp Army Hospital**

"Well _this_ is an unpleasant surprise," said a disappointed and suspicious Superman.

"Trust me, Superman. The feeling is mutual," said General Samuel Lane as the Man of Steel arrived at the gates of the Lexcorp Army Hospital.

Superman had been having such a good day. After opening up the Krypton exhibit at the museum, there weren't too many forces that could ruin that day. Sadly, General Lane was once of them.

He had come to expect difficult situations whenever Jimmy Olsen used his signal watch. However, this was a different level of difficult. Jimmy knew to never use that watch unless it was absolutely necessary. So when he landed in front of General Lane and saw him holding it, he assumed something had gone horribly wrong and was dangerously close to being a horrible disaster.

"Tell Mr. Olsen, I said thanks for the watch," said General Lane as he casually tossed it to Superman. "It saved us the trouble of calling you the hard way."

"I don't want to know what that way entailed so I won't say you're welcome," said Superman as he caught the watch. "What's going on here, General? I thought you and I agreed to stay in different time zones after the whole Ascension ordeal."

"And I'd have _loved_ to honor that agreement, but we can't always get what we want, can we? Sometimes we have to open old wounds and carve out new ones. Sometimes we have to confront unpleasant truths, learn hard lessons, and find new ways of conducting ourselves."

"You use such humble words, but your tone is seriously lacking in humility."

"That's because _I'm_ not the one in need of humility, Superman," said General Lane in a harsher tone. "Follow me and I'll prove it in the least painful way I can manage. I owe you that much."

Now Superman was confused. He gazed at the older man with a raised eyebrow, but his expression remained as stern and hollow as ever. He just turned around, started walking into the base, and expected Superman to follow him. While the Man of Steel had more than a few reasons not to trust this man, something about this felt different.

Despite his reservations, Superman followed the General into the base. He might be General Lane's least favorite alien in the universe, but he was still an overly pragmatic man by principle. He wouldn't have gone through the trouble of getting Jimmy's signal watch if he didn't have a good reason for it and belaboring previous clashes wasn't good enough.

It was still a dangerous assumption – trusting General Lane and following him into a military facility with Lex Luthor's name on it. But near as Superman's enhanced senses could tell, this was not a trap. He remained on his guard, walking closely behind General Lane as they made their way past the gate and towards the main building. Along the way, teams of soldiers stopped and saluted him. They also cast strange looks towards Superman – one filled with hate and disgust.

"I know you're an alien, Superman," said the General, "but I hope that you've found the time to learn a thing or two about our planet."

"I've spent my whole life here on Earth, General. I've found _plenty_ of time," said Superman.

"Then maybe you've heard of a rather famous – _and_ infamous – man named Vlad Dracula, better known as Vlad the Impaler."

"You mean Vlad III, Prince of Wallachia, born in 1431 and died around 1477?" said Superman, the straight-A student in him showing its worth.

"Nice to see you know the basic facts," said General Lane, unimpressed by his response, "but in this case, the facts are secondary to the principle. And you're going to need to understand that principle if you're going to appreciate what I'm about to show you."

Shortly after he said this, they arrived at the main entrance to the facility. A large contingent of military police confronted them, each armed with Lexcorp-style weapons that were undoubtedly designed with Superman in mind. They clutched these weapons firmly as they approached, but simple gesture from General Lane made them step aside and open the large, lead-lined door.

For a military hospital, this was a pretty secure facility. But for one with Lex Luthor's name on the side, it was pretty standard. It only heightened Superman's curiosity as he followed the General inside.

"History tends to be harsh on those who get their hands dirty. Vlad is probably the best example of this," said General Lane as they made their way through the facility. "He was cruel, ruthless, and bloodthirsty – even by medieval standards. There's a reason why he became the inspiration for vampire myths. But those myths obscure a very important fact – one that's too harsh for most people to concede."

"And what might that be, General?" asked Superman.

"That Vlad's atrocities had a legitimate, pragmatic purpose," he replied. "Ignore, for a moment, the folklore and legends surrounding the man. Look at his tactics and look at them closely. The man wouldn't just defeat his enemies. He would torture them – brutalize them – completely and utterly _maim_ them in ways that would make death seem like an act of mercy. That whole impaling reputation of his – he earned that. He favored impalement because, if done a certain way, the victims stayed alive and suffered for hours – even days on end."

"I'm not seeing much _principle_ here," said Superman.

"That's because you – and most uniformed idealists – refuse to look beyond the atrocity," he said. "You see, by committing those atrocities, Vlad developed a reputation – one that was a weapon of mass destruction in its day. When invading armies entered Vlad's domain, he made sure to remind them of that reputation. That's why he often placed his impaled victims along roads. That way his enemies saw what they were in for if they attacked him. It was a form of psychological warfare – intimidating the enemy with your capacity for brutality. It might be cruel, but it was pretty damn effective."

Superman still wasn't sure what General Lane was trying to tell him, but his method for telling it added to his concern. It didn't help that they entered another lead-lined wing of the facility that happened to be guarded by another contingent of military police. Like before, they saluted General Lane and let him thought. And also like before, they kept giving Superman this ominous glare. It was a far cry from the awe and wonder he inspired in most civilians, leading him to assume that they already understood General Lane's point better than he did.

"There's even an old story that may or may not be true, but it gets the point across," General Lane continued. "During Vlad's reign, a Turkish army attempted to attack his homeland. They had superior manpower and superior weapons. On paper, they could've easily defeated Vlad's forces. However, when they saw the roads of impaled victims – when they saw the extent of his atrocities – they turned back."

"So he won a battle without fighting," said Superman. "That doesn't justify his atrocities."

"I never said it did. However, there's no denying the results. Vlad's methods were _so_ brutal and _so_ cruel that he could scare his enemies into _not_ fighting him, even when his enemies had a superior army. He understood that when an enemy was terrified of you, it didn't matter how large their army was. _You_ still had the advantage."

"If that's the principle you wanted to point out, then I can't say I disagree," said Superman, "but I doubt you give out free history lessons without an agenda. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here."

"My agenda hasn't changed. I still don't trust you, Superman. I still see you as a potential threat to this country – to this world," said General Lane, "but even I'll concede you're no Vlad the Impaler. You're not the kind of threat who would torture, maim, or impale."

"Glad I don't have to convince you of _that_ ," said Superman under his breath.

"At the same time, your very presence has some _disturbing_ possibilities. Vlad was just a man. No matter how cruel he was, he had his limits. That leads me to wonder – what if there was Kryptonian version of Vlad? One with the power of Superman and a merciless capacity for cruelty? What kind of terror could that unleash on this world? How would we have any hopes of stopping it?"

The pieces finally fell into place. Superman figured out the point General Lane was trying to make. And disturbingly, it was an entirely valid point.

The thought of someone with the power of Superman and the cruelty of Vlad the Impaler was a deeply distressing thought. Krypton had its share of powerful despots. General Zod was the best example, but Zod was a tactician. He generally avoided atrocities. The idea that anyone from Krypton would embrace such cruelty was a distressing thought.

It was that very thought, however, that General Lane wanted him to contemplate. Like it or not, the General succeeded. It led Superman to wonder and dread the true purpose of this visit.

"Are you thinking out loud, General? Or are you asking me directly?" asked Superman.

"I often say more than I think, but I don't ask unless I believe I'll get a straight answer. That's why I know asking you about anything would be a _complete_ waste of time," said General Lane coldly. "Since the current situation is so time-sensitive, I'll save us both the trouble and just show you."

The General fell silent, his demeanor hardening under Superman's harsh gaze. It's times like this he wished he had Batman's intimidating presence. He might get General Lane to tell him whatever details he was holding back. There had to be more. The Man of Steel could feel it in this growing sickness he felt in his gut.

Whatever it might be, he was about to find out – at least as much as General Lane was willing to reveal. They arrived at the final checkpoint where a couple of military doctors stood outside what appeared to be an intensive care area. Superman could tell by the lack of lead that this area was not usually utilized for intensive care. These must have been extreme circumstances.

"Is she ready?" asked General Lane.

"Yes," answered one of the doctors flatly. "She even refused a sedative and pain killers. She said she wants to be fully coherent when _he_ arrived."

The doctor gestured towards Superman in disgust – another ominous sign that these circumstances had gone beyond extreme.

"Be ready to sedate her just in case," warned the General. "This might get ugly."

The doctors nodded grimly and unlocked the door. General Lane then opened it and led Superman inside where he saw a lone woman lying on a hospital bed surrounded by the best medical equipment Lexcorp and the military had to offer. With his superhuman senses, he could already tell she was badly injured, but the injuries were worse than physical.

"Superman, allow me to introduce Major Sandra Lee," said General Lane, finally stepping aside so the Man of Steel could approach. "She led an elite Spec Ops team to investigate a potential alien anomaly. Without getting into classified details, I'll just say the mission went horribly wrong."

"It's worse than that, General. This woman's been _raped_!" said Superman, the outrage already growing within him.

His X-ray vision revealed the terrible truth. There were likely more horrifying details to uncover. However, neither General Lane nor Superman's enhanced senses got a chance to reveal them all. Major Lee sensed the Man of Steel's presence and – through her agony and despair – turned towards him with her wounded gaze.

"You! You…actually came," said Major Lee in a raspy voice, her every word laced with hatred.

"Major Lee," began Superman in a calmer tone, "I think you should…"

"Shut up!" she barked. "I…don't want to talk to you…more than I have to. The only reason…I asked the General…to bring you here…is to tell you…what _he_ told me to tell you."

"Who? _Who_ told you?" asked Superman intently, his outrage turning to curiosity.

"Your…great, great grandfather…Tyr-El, of the Clan of El."

* * *

 **Themyscira – North Shores**

As a child, Diana often fantasized about becoming Queen of the Amazons. Her mother even nurtured those fantasies, laying out in great detail what a joyous occasion it would be for her and her sisters. By the time she was seven-years-old, she had every moment of this occasion planned out. Even as an adult, the moments of this childish fantasy felt so vivid.

There would be a historic ceremony at the Temple of Hera. Every Amazon on Themyscira would've gathered in their finest garb, cheering joyously and throwing flowers to commemorate the occasion. There would be singing, dancing, and ceremonies from sunrise until sunset. Then, when that fateful moment came, her mother would place the crown on her head, hug her with all the love a mother could give, and declare her Queen of the Amazons.

It should've been the happiest moment of her life – a culmination of training, preparation, and perseverance. Instead, it had been reduced to a matter of protocol.

' _Mother…if ever I needed your love, it's now. I can only imagine how you'd berate my current reign as queen. And to think, I thought I was ready to take over when I was 12. It's as foolish for a child as it is an adult. I swear you'd laugh at my ineptitude, but you'd also guide me as only you could.'_

Sitting on the beach, hugging her knees as the waves lightly washed up against her feet, Diana shed a tear for her mother. It was a cold feeling, knowing she couldn't go to her for advice or for something as simple as a hug. It still hadn't sunk in – her mother being _gone_. And yet she was still expected to take on her role as Queen of the Amazons.

' _I was never ready for this. I'm only queen by default in your…absence.'_

Diana wiped her eyes and fought a wave of sobs. She still couldn't bring herself to accept it. She wouldn't even let herself think it – the idea that her mother was truly gone.

' _This isn't how it was supposed to be. I don't even know if it can work this way. My sisters might accept that I am queen, but I doubt they'll embrace it. They didn't choose this title for me any more than I chose it for myself. Now, I'm expected to make critical decisions regarding the future of our sisterhood – the most pressing being the fate of our brothers. I may have the power of a queen and the strength of a warrior, but even that isn't strong enough to overcome a legacy of atrocity.'_

She continued hugging her knees and wiping her eyes of tears. She prayed with all her heart, seeking guidance from the gods and from her mother. However, she got no response, hearing only the waves crash against the shore.

For the first time in her immortal life, Diana felt so alone. Her mother was gone. Her sisters doubted her. The very gods she once worshipped now conspired against her. She went from being a queen in waiting to a product of infidelity – a living lie that undermined the honor of the Amazons – another taint on the soul of Olympus. The truth hit harder than any god, titan, or parademon.

As hard as it might have been, Diana couldn't run from her duties. She was still an Amazon. She was still Wonder Woman. She let out the last of her sobs and rose up from the sand. Like the warrior she was at heart, she summoned the strength she needed to face the daunting challenges before her. An Amazon could not be shamed for her sorrow. She could only be shamed for accepting defeat and Diana was far from defeated.

' _My mother can't help me. The Justice League can't help me. The gods will likely work against me. If this is the battle I must fight…so be it. I might not be able to undo the Amazons' legacy, but I can build a new one. I just wish I knew where to start.'_

It was as daunting a challenge as any battle she had ever fought – guiding her sisters down a new path. But she was the only one in a position to do something. She had a responsibility to her sisters and the honor of the Amazons to make this right. She just had to figure out how to go about it.

As Diana contemplated the difficult decisions before her, she heard a familiar buzzing in her ear. It was from the communication device in her ear, which was linked directly to the Watchtower.

" _Diana, are you there? This is Batman,"_ said the deep, powerful voice of the Dark Knight.

"I'm here, Batman. And for once, I don't mind you interrupting my train of thought," said Diana, who welcomed a distraction for once.

" _Good,"_ replied Batman, _"but you might regret those words. We have a situation – one that could very easily turn into a crisis. It involves Superman."_

Diana immediately perked up. She still recalled their earlier conversation. She hadn't forgotten that it ended on a sour note. Superman was one of the few remaining friends she could be honest and genuine with. Before she confronted any of the daunting challenges before her, she had to confront this.

"Is he okay?" asked Diana.

" _At the moment, he's fine. But that could change rapidly if this starts to escalate,"_ replied Batman. _"Get back to the Watchtower as soon as you can. I'm picking up some unusual data streams from the Metropolis Museum."_

"You mean the same museum that just opened up the Krypton exhibit?"

" _I hope you're not surprised, but it's worse than you think. This is something I doubt even Superman could've foreseen."_

"How bad is it?" asked Diana anxiously.

" _I'm trying to figure that out as we speak, but it could easily get bad enough to warrant the League's full attention. That might be an issue because Green Lantern is off-planet, Flash is on another assignment, and Cyborg is helping the Titans. "_

"Then let's not let it get to that point," said Diana. "I'm on my way!"

Diana closed the link on her communicator and took to the air. The hard decisions regarding the legacy of the Amazons and her legacy as Wonder Woman would have to wait. Superman needed her help. She owed him as such. At least one of them deserved an honorable legacy.

* * *

 **Daily Planet**

Lois Lane sat at her desk, staring at the completed article on her computer screen, for the past half-hour. She had barely moved a muscle – her mind, her body, and everything in between paralyzed. She built her career on exposing hard truths, but she had never encountered a truth this harsh before. And it had the potential to get much harsher.

' _Damn you, dad. Damn you, Superman. I never thought those thoughts would cross my mind simultaneously. What am I supposed to do with this? I don't know all the facts, but the ones I do know make me want to throw up.'_

Her stomach churned as she recalled the vivid photos her father showed her. She already regretted the large pastrami sandwich she ate for lunch, but that was the least of her regrets. Lois was used to feeling conflicted and outraged with her father. She was _not_ used to having these feelings for Superman.

She still didn't want to believe it – another Kryptonian landing on this planet and attacking innocent soldiers in the worst possible way. She wished she could accuse her father of every possible deception. Maybe he attacked this creature. Maybe he doctored these photos. It would've made the truth so much easier. However, Lois could always tell when her father was lying or giving only part of the truth. Sadly, this wasn't one of those occasions.

Now, within the hour, Perry expected her to submit this article she just wrote – this article that gave a glowing account of Kryptonian culture. With the graphic imagery of those photos still fresh in her mind, she already knew that such a rosy account was wrong. If she submitted it, then she would be willfully ignoring the truth – something she refused to do many times before and without hesitation. This time, however, she did more than hesitate.

' _What am I supposed to do? I can't submit this. I mean…I could and nobody could claim I did anything wrong. It's not like my father gave an official statement or anything. As far as the public knows, those photos I saw don't exist. Except I know they exist. I know the truth. And at some point, the truth will come out. It always does.'_

Lois had never been this conflicted before. She could either submit the article or dig deeper for the truth. Either way, her decision would be damaging. With Superman, doing the right thing was usually so clear-cut. This was not one of those occasions.

She had to decide soon. If she withdrew the article without explanation, then Perry would just get someone else to write it. Her inaction would be every bit as bad as any action. Doing nothing wasn't an option. Either the truth would come out the hard way or it would come out in a far worse way.

' _Damn. I never thought I'd live to see the day where I hated Superman more than my father. HE'S the one who made me value the truth so damn much. HE'S the one I'll hurt most by doing the right thing. I just don't know if I have everything I need to do the right thing.'_

Slumping lower in her chair, Lois agonized over her situation – unsure if she had the will or the heart to do what needed to be done. Then, while her gaze remained locked on her computer screen, she saw a message flash across her computer screen from the last person she wanted to hear from at the moment.

"Lex fucking Luthor? Emailing _me_ at a time like this?" she groaned. "Well _this_ day just keeps getting better and better."

Under any other circumstance, Lois would've deleted the email or sent it to her spam folder. This wasn't the first time Lex Luthor sent her something. She tried time and again to block him, but he kept finding a way to circumvent her filters. It was his exceedingly arrogant way of reinforcing how smart he was. But for once, she decided to open the email – knowing full-well that she would probably regret it.

"God damn it!" said Lois, ready to punch her computer screen. "Of all the days for you to be helpful, Luthor…"

As expected, Lois immediately regretted opening this email. It contained exactly what she hoped it wouldn't. Those photos her father showed her were classified. That meant that, by law, she couldn't cite them in a story. Her father could've offered some details to put in a story. It certainly would've been damaging to Superman, which he definitely didn't mind. But for once, he had the decency to keep this between them. Lex Luthor, however, had no such decency.

The contents of this email were detailed and thorough – consistent with style of an arrogant, egotistical genius like Lex Luthor. It included images, data files, and audio clips that had likely been hacked through grossly illegal means. It provided far more details than her father had been willing to share – more than enough to put in an article. It even included the most important detail to any story – a name.

"Tyr-El – ancestor of Superman – a monster who actually makes Darkseid look tame," she said in disgust. "God, I want to hate you more than I already do, Luthor. This time, I can't."

Clenching her first, Lois held back a string of curses that would've startled everyone in the building. This decision had been hard enough. At least she had an excuse before – lacking the details to confirm the terrible truth. Now, she had those details, courtesy of Lex Luthor. He effectively made the decision before her inescapable. He probably knew that on some level. He also knew how painful this would be for her and for Superman.

"God forgive me," she said to herself, "because I know you won't, Superman."

Swallowing what remained of her disgust and her dignity, Lois got up from her desk and stormed towards Perry's office. She had to inform him that the Daily Planet's article on Superman's legacy was about to be revised in a profound way.

* * *

 **Lexcorp Army Hospital**

' _This can't be happening. My home – my planet – my family – this CAN'T be our legacy!'_

Superman felt sick to his stomach and for someone of his power that was saying something. He felt like he had been punched in the gut by a kryptonite-covered fist. The last half-hour hit him harder than anything Lex Luthor, Brainiac, or Darkseid could ever hope to match. The legacy of the House of El – the legacy he so proudly shared with the world earlier today – had been shattered.

Major Sandra Lee spared no detail. She thoroughly and vividly recounted every detail that Tyr-El wanted her to convey. She described to him the extent of the atrocities he committed on her squad. She even described the torment she suffered under his whim – a torment that left her raped, wounded, and broken. She hated every moment of it, but she went through with it because that's what Tyr-El had instructed. He had broken her so thoroughly that she could not bring herself to defy his orders. It added an extra layer of disgust to Superman's revulsion.

When she finally finished, there was a long, painful silence between them. Major Lee remained in agony, having refused pain killers and sedatives. There was no amount of medicine that could undo what Tyr-El did. For once, Superman was powerless to help.

"Major Lee," he said, finally breaking the silence, "please…if there's anything I can do to help, I'll make it happen. I promise."

"Spare me your promises. There's _nothing_ you can do for me!" she spat. "I'm done. I did everything…he told me to do. Now leave! You and your kind…have done enough."

Her words cut an even deeper wound. Superman, in this powerless state, just bowed his head and turned away. She was right. There really was nothing he could do for her – no promise he could make or feat he could perform – to heal the pain she endured. Rightfully or not, she blamed him as much as she blamed Tyr-El for this atrocity. Even if it was a product of misguided outrage, it still hit every bit as hard.

Superman left the room feeling weaker than he had ever felt. General Lane followed him, having not said a word since Major Lee began talking. There were plenty of things he could've said to make this situation even worse. To his chagrin, he let the truth speak for itself.

"I spoke to her doctor before you arrived," said the General. "The broken bones will heal. The wounds will fade, but there will be scars. The _extent_ of her injuries will leave her in pain for quite some time. Some of those injuries – particularly those she suffered during the rape – will render her unable to bear children."

"I don't know what you're trying to prove here, General," said Superman bitterly, "but you're _not_ helping."

"I wasn't trying to help. I'm just stating facts," he said flatly. "Major Lee's injuries were severe, but strategic."

"There's nothing _strategic_ about this atrocity, General."

"My 30 years of military experience says otherwise," General Lane retorted. "That creature – _your_ great-grand pappy – could've maimed her just like he did the others. But he didn't. He made sure she stayed alive, coherent, and in one piece. He made sure she could send a message. Nobody, alien or human, does that without a strategy in mind."

It made Superman even sicker. He would've preferred a bath in liquid kryptonite at this point. General Lane didn't show it, but the Man of Steel could sense it. He wanted to rub this in his face. He wanted to use this atrocity as a means of vindicating his mistrust of aliens. The act of one alien – even another Kryptonian – still didn't make him entirely right. It didn't make him entirely wrong either.

However sickening it might have been, Superman couldn't deny one part of General Lane's concerns. These terrible acts that Tyr-El committed weren't random. There had to be an underlying purpose to it. That meant the atrocities were far from over.

"I know what you're about to ask me, General," said Superman. "You want me to formerly cooperate with the United States Military. And _formal cooperation_ in your book means turning over any Kryptonian technology I have at my disposal. Except this time, you'll probably _demand_ it."

"Then save me the trouble of arguing with you, Superman," said General Lane sternly. "Give me a reason – a better reason for refusing. Major Lee is living proof that your old reasons just don't cut it anymore. You holding back from _humanity_ means more innocent people suffer!"

"You're still playing word games, General. I know when you say _humanity_ , you really mean the United States government."

"I'm still waiting for a better reason. You can't hide behind your idealism this time, Superman."

"I'm not hiding."

"Bullshit!" spat the General. "You're clinging to every possible excuse. You want to keep doing things _your_ way – the way that only works in a perfect world. But we _don't_ live in that world. We live in a world where ideals falter and innocent people get caught in the crossfire. We can't always save the world, but we can minimize the damage."

There was a ruthless pragmatism to General Lane's approach. It was an approach that flew in the face of Superman's principles. He had made these kinds of arguments before and Superman had never struggled to counter them. He could just draw from the ideals instilled in him by his family's legacy. However, that legacy was now in question like never before.

General Lane had the moral high ground for once and he made full use of it. He got right up in Superman's face, talking down to him in a way few had ever dared. This wasn't just about an argument over principles anymore. This was a real crisis that had the potential to get much worse.

"Here's the situation, Superman – we have a killer, rapist, torturing alien on the loose," General Lane continued. "He's here and he has an agenda that neither of us wants to go any further. You can either help us or you can force us to trust you like you always do."

"Is that what you think I do? I force the people to trust me?" questioned Superman. "All those other times I've saved this country and this world had _nothing_ to do with it?"

"Don't mistake trust for a lack of choices. Those other times might as well be an afterthought because this is personal now. This is _your_ family – _your_ alien legacy. That means if you want to do things your way, it's _your_ responsibility if more people suffer. Any other innocent man who gets maimed – any woman who gets raped like Major Lee – that'll be on _you_ and you alone. You might be able to shoulder that burden, Superman. But you're making us all targets."

The General continued to stare down the Man of Steel, conveying every painful truth he could. Superman had been a champion of the truth. Now, it was being thrown back in his face. General Lane still twisted it to suit his agenda, but that didn't make his words any less valid.

Clenching his fist, Superman just glared back at the older man. He saw in his eyes a man still dedicated to his country. It was an honorable trait, but that honor got lost in General Lane's ruthless pragmatism. There were many benefits to cooperating with this man. Having the weight of the United States military behind him might make it easier to find Tyr-El and prevent more atrocities. However, it wouldn't stop there. General Lane's agenda wouldn't allow it.

He could already hear the voice of Jor-El in his head, warning him of the dangers of sharing Kryptonian technology with a species that wasn't ready for it. The voice of his ancestors may have been tainted, but it still had a ring of truth to it. That truth was just more painful than he ever thought it would be.

"I'm sorry, General," said Superman, stepping away from the General's glare, "but you know my agenda as well as anybody. And I know yours better than you'll ever admit. That means we're done here."

General Lane snorted and cast him a harsh scold. This time, there was an unmistakable smugness to his gesture.

"Then congratulations," he said. "You just proven you care more about being Superman than protecting innocent people. And you _dare_ call yourself a hero?"

"Call me whatever you want, General. I'm going to stop, Tyr-El," said Superman sternly. "He _won't_ hurt anyone else. I'll see to that."

He didn't wait for General Lane to scoff at his words. Using his super-speed, he flew out of the base in a blur of red and blue, leaving only a sharp gust of wind in his wake. There was nothing more to discuss with this man. He made his point. For once, they were painfully valid. His legacy, his ideals, and his principles were all undermined by Tyr-El's atrocities. It had to stop here or more people would align themselves with men like General Lane.

Once the sharp gust of wind passed, General Lane just snorted again and shook his head. It felt good to be vindicated for once against Superman, but vindication alone wouldn't resolve this crisis. There was still an alien menace on the loose and Superman once again proved that he couldn't be trusted to protect his country.

After fixing his ruffled uniform, the General retrieved his cell phone and made an important call. Superman may still be a hero in the eyes of many, but no hero could hope to confront atrocities like the one endured by Major Lee. To deal with a menace like this, this country needed something more effective than any hero.

"Major, send a message to the Pentagon. Project Bloodline is officially a go now," he said as soon as he made the call. "And connect me with Lex Luthor. I have a feeling his demands are about to get a lot less reasonable."

* * *

 **Skies Over The North Pole**

Everything felt so cold. The blistering arctic winds stung with every gust. Such cold rarely bothered Superman before, but this kind of cold went beyond the weather. For the first time since he put on his cape, a chill ran down Superman's spine. But it wasn't out of fear. It was out of anger – cold, unfiltered anger.

' _Tyr-El – my great-grandfather – a murdering, raping monster. Damn you, Jor-El! Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you warn me? Are you really THAT big a hypocrite? The kind that preaches truth and hope, but censors everything around it?'_

The Man of Steel's expression hardened as he flew full-speed towards the Fortress of Solitude. His lips quivered as he fought the urge to curse his biological father in ways that would heard from here to the Phantom Zone. It was bad enough that there was some Kryptonian torture murderer on the loose. The idea that this monster was related to him – and that his father never said a word about it – enraged him in ways that few things could.

' _There's no way he didn't know. He was smart enough to build the rocket that sent me to Earth. He was smart enough to save as much of Krypton's legacy as possible. So how could he be this…this STUPID? Did he really think this secret would die with Krypton? Did he actually TRY to bury it with my home planet?'_

These were angry, hostile thoughts that he had never directed at his biological father before. It sickened him even more, feeling such outrage towards him. There were any number of excuses for hiding this dark secret about the House of El, but none of those excuses could justify this.

As he neared the Fortress of Solitude, Superman's thoughts drifted back to Major Lee. The wounds she suffered – the pain and humiliation she endured – it added a different dimension to his anger. He could deal with having dark secrets within his family legacy. He could not deal with innocent people suffering like that.

' _Save your anger for something more pressing, Clark. Your father's not here to yell at. He wasn't the one that unleashed Tyr-El against that woman. If you really want to salvage your family's legacy, find that bastard and take him down!'_

The Man of Steel had never been more determined to confront a threat. His every thought was now dedicated to finding Tyr-El and bringing him to justice. And for the good of his family's legacy, he had to do it by himself.

As the Fortress of Solitude came into view from the snow, he heard a familiar buzzing noise in his ear. This time, it came from the earpiece that linked him to the Justice League Watchtower. Under any normal circumstances, he would've stopped to answer it. However, these circumstances were anything but normal.

" _Kal! It's Diana. Come in!"_ said the urgent voice of Diana. _"Please answer!"_

Upon hearing her voice, Superman slowed down. Her voice had that effect on him. It had ever since their first encounter during Darkseid's invasion. This time, however, he had to shrug it off.

"Not now, Diana. I'm busy," he replied flatly.

" _Yes, and I have a feeling I know what you're busy with."_

"Let me guess. Batman figured it out," said the Man of Steel.

" _Not entirely. It's…more complicated than that,"_ replied Diana cryptically.

A rare bit of anxiety echoed from her voice. Wonder Woman never got anxious, even in the heat of battle. It was cause for concern, but Superman refused to be distracted.

"Whatever those complications are, they'll have to wait," said Superman. "If Batman has figured even half of it out, he knows there's a Kryptonian fugitive on the loose and he's already committed a major atrocity."

" _That's where the complications come in, I'm afraid," replied Diana. "I can only imagine how upset you are. If what I've heard about this Tyr-El is true, then I don't blame you for making this personal."_

"Then you won't blame me for wanting to do this on my own. It's my problem! My responsibility! You off all people should understand that, Diana."

" _I understand it better than you think. That's exactly why you need to let us help you, Kal!"_

Despite her desperate tone, Superman remained undeterred. While still flying at high speeds, he pulled the earpiece out of his ear and delivered one last message.

"No," he replied. "I can't let anyone else get hurt – not you, not the League – _nobody_. I need to do this alone. And Diana…don't call me Kal."

Superman then crushed the earpiece in his fingers. He didn't need Diana's urgent voice slowing him down any further. He would apologize to her and the rest of the League after this was over. Right now, his sole focus was stopping Tyr-El.

After discarding what was left of the earpiece, he flew at supersonic speeds towards the Fortress of Solitude. He would've flown faster, but couldn't without setting a displacing a good chunk of the Earth's atmosphere. He didn't care how many Kryptonian resources he had to tap. He was going to find Tyr-El, beat him into submission, and bring him to justice. Whether that involved sending him to the Phantom Zone or snapping his neck, it didn't matter. Superman had to end this before another innocent soul suffered.

He was just a few seconds away from the Fortress of Solitude. He could already see the entrance to the massive crystalline structure opening. But just as he was about to fly into it, a figure came flying out at speeds almost as fast as him. And through the cold arctic winds, he heard an equally cold voice.

"Hello, Kal-El."

Within a few microseconds of hearing that voice, this figure struck Superman with a flying uppercut. This one punch hit with such force that it sent a sonic boom reverberating throughout the Arctic Circle. It also sent Superman flying back at supersonic speeds, creating more sonic booms as he crashed into a nearby glacier, carving a sizable crater in the process.

"Ungh!" groaned the Man of Steel.

His head now ringing and his jaw sore, Superman opened his eyes to see he landed at least a dozen miles from the Fortress of Solitude. Whoever hit him had strength on the same level as Darkseid. As he lay in the icy crater, his vision still blurred from the blow, he saw the figure who delivered that blow descend towards him. He wasn't as imposing as Darkseid, but he carried himself with a demeanor that was every bit as malevolent.

"So you're my great-great-grandson," he said with folded arms and a curt grin. "It's nice to see the Clan of El still produces quality men – even if they can't take a punch like they used to."

The imposing figure didn't introduce himself or give a name, but Superman didn't need him to. Despite his head still throbbing, his vision had cleared enough for him to scan his DNA. It confirmed what he already suspected.

"Tyr-El," said Superman angrily. "Thanks for saving me the trouble of tracking you down."

"Wasn't planning on hiding from you," he said with a half-grin. "We're family. We don't hide from family."

"You…are _not_ …family!" he spat with a conviction echoed throughout the Arctic Circle.

The Man of Steel didn't wait for the ringing in his head to stop. He shot up from the crater at speeds that ignited the cold arctic air around his fists. Then, with focused rage that would've given Darkseid pause, he struck Tyr-El point blank.

The imposing figure blocked the incoming attack, albeit barely. He guarded his body and face with his arms, deflecting the initial strike. He was still sent flying back by the sheer force of Superman's blow, but he was able to absorb the strike with hardly a flinch.

Undeterred, Superman unleashed a barrage of additional strikes, punching at a speed that Flash would've envied. He landed a few body blows, but nothing that caused Tyr-El anything other than momentary discomfort.

"I take it from your _outburst_ that you know," said Tyr-El in an overly casual tone as he blocked Superman's attacks.

"Know what? That you're a murderer! A butcher! A rapist!" yelled Superman.

"Ah. So you got my message. Good," he said with a grin.

"You mean from the woman you _raped_? Yeah, I got it. Now here's mine!"

While still flying at high speeds, Superman ceased his barrage of punches for a few fractions of a second – giving him just enough time to wind up and deliver a punishing haymaker. This time, he made sure Tyr-El didn't block it.

When it hit, Tyr-El went flying back down towards the icy landscape below. He landed within the shadow of the Fortress of Solitude, creating a crater similar to the one Superman caused earlier. It sent another wave of deafening blasts throughout the arctic landscape, but it only caused Tyr-El to stammer.

This was usually the part of a fight where Superman pulled back and tried to reason with an enemy. He decided to skip that part this time. This monster deserved no mercy. Ready to end it here, he flew in with the speed of a small meteor and hit Tyr-El again in the chest. He then followed it up with a relentless barrage of body blows.

"I don't know where you came from! I don't know why you're here! I don't care!" yelled Superman in between blows. "Family or not – legacy or no legacy – your atrocities…end…now!"

He couldn't tell if he was even hurting Tyr-El. The imposing figure just took each blow, flinching only moderately at the discomfort. Superman was prepared to punch him as long as he had to. Whether it subdued or killed him didn't matter. What he did – the name under which he did it – he had to be stopped.

More cracks formed in the thick ice with each blow, but Tyr-El continued to endure, showing no signs of submission. He didn't even block the punches this time, letting his descendant unleash his outrage on him. He waited until he was completely consumed by his anger. That's when he made his move.

"Kal-El…you disappoint me," said Tyr-El.

Before Superman could land the next punch, Tyr-El retrieved a small, diamond-shaped crystal from a pocket. He then slapped it onto Superman's forehead. Almost immediately, it took effect.

"Aaaggghh!" exclaimed Superman.

In an instant, the Man of Steel felt a paralyzing surge through his body. The crystal flashed in a blinding purplish light as every muscle tensed. Every nerve was set ablaze. It was like having a massive cramp in every part of his body, rendering him completely immobile and in an extraordinary amount of pain.

His body ended up frozen in mid-punch, trapped in this paralyzed state. He fought with all his might to break free, but it was no use. The harder he fought, the more the more his body cramped. He could only manage a few labored twitches as his body remained surrounded in the purplish light. This allowed Tyr-El to casually slip out of his grasp. He then dusted himself off before standing over Superman once more, his imposing presence now all the more menacing.

"You feel that, Kal-El?" taunted Tyr-El. "In previous ages, we called it the Central Nervous Binding Matrix. It overwhelms the nervous system of any organic life form with a steady stream of physio-electric surges – rendering them paralyzed and docile. It allowed Kryptonian warriors like myself to subdue enemies. It made them easier to _process_."

"Process? Don't you mean _torture_?" grunted Superman, barely able to move his lips.

"We did what we did for a reason. You may despise that reason. Your descendants sure did. They banned the use of weapons like the Central Nervous Binding Matrix shortly after my time. But in doing so, they doomed their descendants. So what's that say about their so-called reasons?"

"It says… _they_ hated you. That they were… _ashamed_ of you," spat Superman.

"It also says they were wrong. They doomed their entire species because they weren't willing to do things like _this_."

With Superman completely immobile, Tyr-El raised his hand up over Superman's head and then struck him hard in a special area around his neck and lower back. He struck with a force that would've shattered solid granite. Such force sent a surge of pain through Superman the likes of which he had never felt, even at his most weakened.

"AHHHHHHHHHH!" the Man of Steel cried out, his agony echoing for miles.

"I _know_ you felt that," said Try-El sadistically. "Every species has certain vulnerabilities. We called them pressure points. Before we went into battle, we memorized every one of them. And when we got the chance, we made use of that knowledge. Allow me to demonstrate."

What happened next was a testament to unmitigated agony and unrepentant cruelty. Tyr-El unleashed a barrage of focused strikes, each targeting a specific pressure point. He moved at blinding speeds, hitting one after the other in rapid succession with ruthless efficiency. He left no point of vulnerability untouched – striking every point from head to toe, adding to the pain with each successful blow.

The Man of Steel let out more pained cries, but they were drowned out by the pain. It was so intense that he soon found himself unable to process the world around him. One-by-one, his senses shut down. His vision became blurred, his ears rang, and he could only taste the blood seeping into his mouth. He had been hit harder before by much stronger enemies, but it never hurt like this before.

This must have been how those innocent soldiers felt at the hands of this monster. The pain, the suffering, the feeling of being completely at his mercy – this was how he tormented them. This must be how he tormented all his enemies, maximizing the pain while ensuring they remained conscious. It was a testament to the depths of Tyr-El's cruelty. This was what he was capable of. If the message he sent through Major Lee wasn't clear enough, he made sure he left no room for doubt this time.

Tyr-El hit every pressure point more than once, rendering Superman's body so paralyzed that the Central Nervous Binding Matrix was no longer needed. By the time he delivered the last strike, Superman no longer had the strength to cry out in pain. Now wounded and utterly defeated, Tyr-El removed the crystal on his forehead. It felt like the weight of a planet being lifted, allowing him to fall limply to the snowy ground.

"Hnn…" groaned Superman as his body ached in every possible way.

"I've broken several dozen bones, lacerated a few organs, and triggered internal bleeding in no fewer than three organs," said Tyr-El, sounding proud of his work. "You're Kryptonian though. You'll survive. You're _much_ more durable than those feeble humans I handled earlier. I barely broke a sweat, even while raping that feisty young woman."

"Her name…was Sandra!" groaned Superman, still in agony. "You'll pay…for what you did to her!"

"Whatever the cost of my actions, I pay it gladly," he said with a shrug, "and it's not like you're able to collect. As we speak, the extent of your injuries are mounting and you're just making it worse by fighting."

Superman tried to get up. He immediately regretted it. His legs refused to carry him. His entire body felt like it was ready to collapse. He coughed a load of blood as he remained keeled over on the icy terrain with Tyr-El's shadow looming over him. As he looked down at his hands, he saw bruises and welts forming on his flesh. He hadn't seen such bruises since his battle against Darkseid. They hurt even more than they looked, which was probably the point.

Despite the pain, Superman clenched his fist and prepared to strike again. He barely raised his hand before Tyr-El struck first, delivering a hard kick to the jaw. It knocked the Man of Steel flat on his back, landing with a hard thud on the icy terrain. His body now writhed in even greater pain. He coughed up more blood and his vision grew blurry again, the impact and the pain rendering him utterly defeated.

"I believe I've made my point," said Tyr-El callously.

"Hnn…" was all Superman could respond with this time.

Before he could even begin to recover, Try-El placed his foot on his chest over symbolic emblem of the House of El. This kept Superman on his back while insulting the family emblem he once cherished. As if the pain wasn't enough, this monster had to throw more dirt on his legacy.

"I know how you feel about my actions, Kal-El. I understand them better than you think," he said. "Your sentiment is a product of its time. You and your family come from an age of education, progress, and enlightenment. That's all well and good, but every age for every species is built on the foundation laid by its predecessors. We cannot escape it. It is the nature of sentient life."

"You think…that makes you…better?" said Superman, coughing up more blood with every word.

"Not in the slightest," scoffed Tyr-El. "I know my era was brutal. It was certainly no golden age. I freely admit that. But without my age, the Krypton you know and love would never have existed. If not for my brutal era, then the brutal era of another race would've come along and subdued Krypton long ago. This isn't mere speculation either. This happens all throughout the universe. It even happens here on Earth among these primitive humans."

"That doesn't…make it…right!"

"That doesn't make it any less _necessary_ either."

Tyr-El pressed his foot down on Superman's chest even harder. Having already fractured several rips, it filed the Man of Steel with a fresh round of pain. He winced in agony, effectively silencing him from further arguments. Tyr-El was trying to make a point and he was not going to be dissuaded.

"The wars, the killing, the rapes, the atrocities – these might be barbaric in the eyes of history, but they are inescapable building blocks for civilization," Tyr-El continued. "Krypton was no different. It went through this brutal phase like so many others. Like any successful species, it only achieved greatness after brutal ages like mine laid the foundation. You can despise it all you want. You can be sickened to the core. But like every natural cycle of destruction and creation, you cannot escape it."

He then took his foot off Superman's chest, but not before digging his heel in a bit harder – breaking a couple more ribs in the process. The symbol on his chest was now dirtied, but still intact. And as he gazed at it, Tyr-El actually smiled for the first time.

"However you or I might feel about my brutal era, I think we can both agree on the irony of Krypton's fate," said Try-El. "In the end, it wasn't my atrocities that doomed Krypton. It was its own arrogance. Your father – my distant grandson – tried to save it. Those who could've helped didn't listen. Any chance at laying a foundation for a better age was lost. It's tragic, but it doesn't have to be the end of Krypton's story."

Still smiling at Superman's wounded state, Tyr-El knelt down and retrieved another crystal. This one looked like something he took from the Fortress of Solitude. Superman identified it as a simple data storage crystal. With a simple tap, Tyr-El activated it. He then gathered the blood that Superman had been coughing up and dipped it onto the crystal, which began glowing red immediately. As it glowed, holographic images of Superman's appeared.

General Lane had already warned him about this – there being a strategy behind the atrocity. Tyr-El was just getting around to confirming it, meaning more atrocities could follow.

"It's only fitting that the bloodline of the Clan of El be the one that saves Krypton's legacy," said Tyr-El as he admired the crystal. "My DNA is old and damaged – an unfortunate byproduct of drifting through space in a preservation cocoon. Yours, however, is as pure and polished as any precious gem. It'll provide a fitting foundation for a new generation of Krypton. It'll also provide the raw materials I need to revitalize the Doomsday Legion."

"Doomsday…" gasped Superman, recognizing that name as well as any well-informed Kryptonian.

"Yes. I assume you know the creature, but not the history. It's another part of Krypton's heritage that future generations decided to censor – the secrets behind Doomsday and the horrors that inspired it. Those secrets literally lie within our DNA. They embody the Clan of El's legacy that brought glory to Krypton. Now, it'll do the same to Earth."

Once the data crystal finished processing, Tyr-El gathered up a few more samples of blood and stored it in a container. However, he held the crystal containing Superman's genetic information with exceptional care. He admired it like a precious gem. But where Tyr-El saw beauty, Superman only saw the potential for more horror.

"I don't expect you to understand. In fact, I expect you to despise it with every fiber of your being," said Tyr-El distantly. "I'm sure your father did. His father before him probably did the same. But even they wouldn't deny that the Doomsday Legion helped forge Krypton's greatness. We acted as the tip of the spear of Krypton's army. We made it known to all known and potential enemies what we were capable of. The terror we evoked – the fear we inspired – it created a bloody past to ensure a prosperous future. If we're to build another future, the Doomsday Legion must rise again!"

"No. I…won't…let you!" said Superman in defiance.

"I know you'll oppose me. I know you don't have the stomach for what needs to be done. I don't blame you, but I can't let you stand in my way. This is bigger than us – than the Clan of El's legacy. This is about the survival of the Kryptonian race. You may be content to be its last son, but I intend to save it…no matter the cost."

Tyr-El clenched the crystal firmly before storing it away. He then turned back towards Superman, whose muscles were already twitching with anticipation. He was still badly injured and in a lot of pain, but still determined to oppose Tyr-El. It was admirable – a testament to the tenacity of the Clan of El's bloodline. But it was also tragic.

"And if that cost includes the death of my distant grandson…so be it," said Tyr-El.

"You still…won't…win! The Justice League…will…stop you!" said Superman defiantly.

Tyr-El scoffed at his words and had since grown tired of him. Now standing over his distant grandson once more, Tyr-El pressed his boot against Superman's neck. He coughed and choked, causing more blood to seep from his mouth. Applying more pressure, it wouldn't take much to snap his neck and effectively silence the Clan of El's last son once and for all.

"If I do my duty, as the Doomsday Legion has always done, then even they won't have the stomach for it," said Tyr-El confidently. "You're the only lucky one, Kal-El. For you, I offer a _relatively_ painless death. Compared to what I intend to do to those that oppose me, it is my first and _last_ act of mercy. Consider it your family's final gift to you."

It was the final crack that shattered the House of El's legacy. The aura of nobility and respectability surrounding Superman's family legacy was no more. Tyr-El – this dark secret from Krypton's distant past – had destroyed it forever. Now, he was prepared to destroy his own family as well, taking away any hope that such a legacy could be salvaged.

Superman felt the pressure on his neck grow. Tyr-El pressed down so hard that massive cracks began forming in the terrain around them. He already feel bones breaking. He could feel his lungs crying out for air. He fought with every last bit of strength he could spare, but it wasn't enough. He was at Tyr-El's mercy – a mercy that would not be shared by countless innocents.

But as the thought of so many suffering innocence plagued his fleeting thoughts, another sonic boom echoed from the snowy skies above and familiar voice rang out.

"Get away from him!" yelled a very angry, very determined Wonder Woman.

Tyr-El barely had a chance to look up before the Amazon warrior came flying in and struck him with a punishing haymaker across the face. However, she made sure she didn't stop there.

As soon as Tyr-El was knocked off his feet, Wonder Woman delivered more punishing strikes – hitting him with a series of body blows that would've wounded a titan. This man dared to wound one of her friends and teammates. That meant she dared to inflict more pain.

"You vile…murdering… _wretch_ of a creature!" she exclaimed in between blows. "You will _pay_ for your crimes!"

She emphasized her intent by striking him with a devastating right cross, which landed right on Tyr-El's jaw. The force of such a blow sent him flying back at supersonic speeds towards the outer wall of the Fortress of Solitude. When he hit it, he hit with such force that it caused large cracks in the shell to form.

This blow, in conjunction with the impact, left Tyr-El dazed. However, Wonder Woman didn't give him a chance to recover. She immediately flew up to him and pinned him against the crystal wall, jamming her forearm right up against his neck.

The attack had caught Tyr-El off-guard, so much so that he had been unable to block or counter. He actually felt blood dripping from his nose – something he hadn't felt in a very long time. While it did cause plenty of pain, the old Kryptonian barely flinched under this new threat.

"An Amazon…remarkable," he said with an ominous grin, even as blood poured down his face.

"Save your breath, monster! You've precious little left as it stands!" spat Wonder Woman. "I know of your atrocities. What you did to those men – that woman – you will pay for your crimes!"

She increased the pressure on Tyr-El's neck, but it didn't wipe the grin off his face.

"You could…try. You could even…end me…if you chose," he said through short breaths. "However, that would…take time – time that…Kal-El…doesn't have."

Wonder Woman turned back towards Superman briefly. She saw that he still hadn't gotten up. He was still coughing up blood, choking on it from the looks of it. Any time she dedicated to making this creature pay was another moment she allowed Superman to suffer. This vile creature seemed to know this.

"His injuries…are severe. If you don't tend to him…he'll die," said Tyr-El.

"I _could_ just end your quickly," Wonder Woman pointed out.

"You could. But you… _care_ for him…don't you? You came here…alone…to save him. Will you risk…letting him…die?"

The grin on his face hinted that he already knew the answer to that question. The mere thought of letting this murdering, raping madman out of her grasp made Wonder Woman sick to her stomach, but she could not ignore the echoes of Superman's suffering. He needed her help. It all came down to a decision between compassion and retribution. For Wonder Woman, the decision was painfully clear.

Snorting at Tyr-El in disgust, she let him go and flew over towards Superman as fast as she could. Almost immediately, Tyr-El ascended into the air at high speeds, ensuring Wonder Woman had no chance of launching a second attack.

"An unwise, yet predictable choice," said Tyr-El as he watched Wonder Woman tend to Superman, "but one that's quite _telling_ …in more ways than one."

Tyr-El lingered somewhat so he could observe Wonder Woman tending to Superman. What he saw revealed more than the predictability of those not fully hardened by war. He expected his distant grandson to have allies. He even expected them to come to his aid, but this woman who showed up just in time to save him – she carried herself with a unique spirit.

Strategically speaking, it would've been wise for him to stay behind and ensure Kal-El's death. However, the presence of the Amazon would surely complicate those efforts. He had prepared for Kal-El's arrival, but not for hers. Fighting her blindly carried too much risk. He already had what he came for. With the data crystal in hand, Tyr-El could proceed. Kal-El's survival might require him to modify his time tables, but the Amazon could make that easier than he thought.

' _Thank you, Kal-El, for ensuring the Clan of El's legacy…and for bringing this woman into the mix. Strong women have always been the envy of our clan's bloodline. If this woman – this Amazon – is as spirited as she seems, then the preservation of our kind is all but ensured!'_

* * *

 **Lexcorp Research Lab – Main Laboratory**

"A toast!" proclaimed a jubilant Lex Luthor. "To the end of the fraud of Superman! And to the downfall that's destined to come!"

Lex Luthor proudly held up a glass of champagne, commemorating his latest triumph. There was nobody around to raise a glass with him, but that didn't matter. He expected plenty of people to join him in celebration eventually so he decided to get a head start.

Standing proudly in front of a large computer array, he sipped the champagne and savored every drop of it. He forgot how good it tasted. It had been a while since he could enjoy a toast like this. It used to be a regular thing – having a glass of champagne to celebrate another triumph by Lex Luthor. That all changed when Superman showed up. His arrival led to more failures than triumphs, so much so that he stopped importing his champagne. He might have to revise that policy again because this was one of those triumphs that could inspire many others.

With his glass in hand, Lex admired the fruits of his labor. These fruits came in the form of data streaming across his computer monitors. He had just gotten off the phone with General Lane. The conversation went as well as he expected and then some. Superman's reaction was every bit as devastating as he hoped. He only wished he could've been there to see the look on his face when his hypocrisy was exposed.

It was an overdue moment that he had avoided for too long and the timing couldn't be better. Earlier today, he proclaimed the virtue and superiority of his alien legacy. Now, he knew that legacy was tainted and always had been. Soon, the world would know.

Lex was only halfway finished with his glass when one of the data streams on his monitor finished processing. It then loaded a webpage from the Daily Planet. In another act of irony, the medium that helped create the Superman fraud also helped expose it.

"Ah Lois Lane – for once, your tenacity doesn't annoy me," said Lex, raising his glass again.

It was unfolding even faster than he expected. After sending Lois that anonymous tip, so to speak, she ran with it. The atrocity in the Nevada desert went from being a secret government operation to a front-page news story. While the details had been filtered, it conveyed the necessary message. Another alien had landed on their planet and it attacked innocent people. That alone wasn't news, but this alien being Kryptonian and possibly related to Superman – that was news of the most pressing kind.

He imagined he would get a few calls from irate military officials who weren't happy about a secret operation being exposed. He expected them to get over it, courtesy of General Lane. They might feel better after reading this article because he didn't even need the failed operation to humiliate Superman. It just ended up being icing on the cake.

"You're about to learn a hard lesson, Superman – one you should've learned long ago," said Lex to the screen. "Lofty ideals are no better than empty promises. You can't stand for truth, justice, and the American way when your understanding of these concepts are flawed. Now, the cold, hard truth has been shoved in your face. It'll either crush you or discredit you – or both if you're as big a fraud as I think."

Lex laughed and gulped down the rest of his champagne. He intended to pour another glass once reactions started coming in from the Daily Planet's report. He looked forward to seeing how the people reacted to their disgraced icon. It would only make his subsequent triumphs more satisfying.

As he admired the fruits of his work, Mercy Graves entered through one of the side-entrances to his lab. She was talking on a cell phone and for once, Lex actually looked forward to the news.

"Yes, I understand…thank you, General Lane. I'll inform Mr. Luthor right now. We'll be in touch," she said as she ended the call.

"I take it from your lack of urgency that it's done," said Lex, still transfixed on the monitor.

"It's done, Mr. Luthor," affirmed Mercy. "General Lane authorized it, as promised. Our legal team has confirmed it. The international investigation into Lexcorp's illegal dealings has been indefinitely suspended."

"In government terms, that's the same as saying case closed," said Lex with a grin.

"He also confirmed that Superman met with Major Lee. His reaction was…troubled, to say the least."

Lex's grin widened. He tried to imagine the look on Superman's face when he confronted the atrocity of his own kind – his own blood, no less. Even his vast intellect couldn't do justice to such a moment. It would've been so satisfying to see, but he was content with merely being vindicated.

"Can I assume he wasn't _troubled_ enough to cooperate with General Lane?" asked Luthor.

"The General did extend an offer. Superman refused," said Mercy.

"As is to be expected," he scoffed. "Why would he cooperate? Why would he dare to share the resources of an advanced alien race to stop a menace that would torture innocent humans? _That_ might actually be heroic of him. Superman once again proves that he's neither a hero nor a god. He's just another false idol and humanity is just a prop for his agenda."

Lex set aside his champagne glass and closed the link to the Daily Planet's article. He intended to track the public's reaction to Superman's fraud. If they were anywhere near as _troubled_ as Superman, then the reaction would be quite intense. But as much as Lex wanted to watch Superman's disgrace unfold on a global stage, there was work to be done.

Stepping away from his monitor, he made his way back to the work bench he had been using earlier. Mercy followed closely, her cell phone still in hand. It wasn't enough for the people to see Superman for the fraud he was. They had to see that Lex Luthor could provide humanity with a far better legacy than any alien.

"Did the good General have anything else to say?" asked Lex as they arrived at his bench.

"Yes. He asked that you supply him with a list of resources," she said. "Whatever you need for the next step – it's yours. The President has already authorized emergency protocols."

"With a murdering, raping alien on the loose, that's to be expected," said Lex. "Forward him the list I gave you earlier. Tell him some of the _contingencies_ we discussed will cost extra. If he wants do more than just contain this threat, he'll pay up."

"I'll relay that message. I doubt he'll refuse."

Mercy stepped away to take care of the logistics, allowing him to dedicate the bulk of his brilliant mind to the challenge at hand. On his work bench, the device that allowed him to expose Superman's flawed was still running at full-power. The crystal within the structure was still unstable. The device as a whole showed signs of instability. That didn't matter though. This device had already done everything he hoped it would. Now, he just needed it to complete one last task to ensure Superman's downfall.

"Superman thought no one could hack is precious Fortress. I proved him wrong," said Lex as he admired the glowing crystal. "He thought no one could expose his hypocrisy. I proved him wrong as well. Now, I'm going to prove that mankind's greatest genius can best Krypton's greatest fraud!"

* * *

 **Up next: Deep Wounds and Deeper Scars**


	4. Deep Wounds and Deeper Scars

**Broken Legacy  
Chapter 4: Deep Wounds and Deeper Scars**

* * *

 **Themyscira**

It had been a long time since this much tension and uncertainty befell the Amazons. The order that once bound them in sisterhood had shattered – quite literally, in some respects. Their beloved queen, Hippolyta, was no more. Her secret affair with Zeus and the illicit conception of her daughter had been revealed. This had incurred a swift, merciless judgment by the gods. Now, Diana was queen, but few had confidence in her ability to rule.

Aleka watched this chaos unfold from the beginning. From the moment Hippolyta revealed her secret to the moment Hera cursed her, she saw the foundation of the Amazons crumble before her eyes. Their sisterhood remained intact. Life still continued on Themyscira, as was necessary amidst such chaos. But the future of the Amazons had never been more uncertain.

" _What do you thinks she's going to do? Would she really have us live among men?"_

" _She'll betray our traditions. She'll defy the gods if she has to. I know it!"_

" _Even if the men stay isolated, how will we bear children? What will become of the Amazons?"_

These were just some of the sentiments that Aleka heard on a daily basis. She couldn't walk down the market or train in the gymnasium without hearing her sisters' distress. They all knew change was coming. They all knew Diana's feelings towards certain Amazon traditions. Her youth, inexperience, and naivety had instilled radical views about man's world and Themyscira's place in it. Many felt she was not ready to be queen, but she was still the rightful heir. Like it or not, she would decide the Amazons' fate moving forward.

"How much longer will it be? When do you think Diana will make her first decree?" wondered Dessa, one of Aleka's closest friends.

"I've given up trying to answer that question. I hate even _asking_ it," said Aleka.

"I'm sorry to upset you, dear sister. I can't stop wondering…and worrying."

"You and every other sister on Themyscira. That's why we're out here picking fruit. We're trying to distance ourselves from difficult questions that are out of our hands."

"I know," sighed Dessa, "and believe me, I want to take my mind off such complicated affairs. I just…can't stop myself from contemplating the days ahead of us."

Aleka shook her head. The silence she enjoyed after leaving the markets around the place didn't last long. She didn't usually volunteer to pick fruit from the orchards, but she made an exception in hopes of clearing her mind. She thought bringing Dessa along would help. During times of hardship, being around a sister helped give Amazons that extra strength. This time, however, it was more a hindrance than a strength.

Aleka didn't respond to her sister's lament. Instead, she focused on picking the large tropical fruit from a tree in Themyscira's main orchard and stuffing it in a basket. It was a simple, laborious task. It occupied the mind and body from other, greater toils. It just didn't occupy Dessa enough.

"The Amazons have known only one life for so long. Does Diana really seek to change it?" wondered Dessa, who was just staring at the fruit rather than picking it.

"That's up to her. She's queen now," said Aleka, not hiding her bitterness. "She'll do what she feels is right."

"Even if it's considered wrong by every tradition that came before it?"

"She's always been her own woman. She just _loves_ to set herself apart from her sisters and not always in the best of ways."

"You think she might offend those traditions just to spite us?" added Dessa. "We didn't exactly endear ourselves to her by calling her clay for all those years."

"I wouldn't put it past her, but Diana's not that kind of woman. She's not petty or crude…even when she ought to be at times," said Aleka after setting down her basket of fruit.

"I want to believe that. I really do. I just don't think she understands why these traditions matter. They're in place for a reason. They've sustained us for centuries. Her leaving Themyscira to explore man's world might have been taboo, but it wasn't an affront. Does she really expect us to embrace that world as she has? Even if they _are_ an affront in the highest order?"

Dessa had given up trying to distract herself. She couldn't focus on fruit enough to calm her troubled mind. She gazed back towards the road that led to the central market. It was difficult to contemplate the changes facing the Amazons, but there was no way around it. Diana was queen and her decree was law. What else could any Amazon do?

Aleka's lack of a response indicated that she had done a better job of distracting herself. Sensing she was getting annoyed, she set down her half-full basket of fruit and sighed.

"I'm sorry to annoy you, dear sister. I don't mean to make this harder on us both," said Dessa.

"Be quiet, Dessa," she heard Aleka say.

"I will. I promise. I just want you to know that…"

Then, much to Dessa's surprise, Aleka cut her off.

"Shhh! I said be quiet!" she barked in a hushed tone. "Someone's here – someone who shouldn't be."

Almost immediately, a lifetime of warrior training overshadowed any further lamenting. Aleka had already drawn her sword, which every Amazon kept close by, even when picking fruit. Dessa did the same upon seeing that she had already taken a battle stance. Now gripping her sword, she scanned the nearby area for potential threats. Anything or anyone that dared show up on Themyscira unannounced was a threat to take seriously.

"Show yourself!" demanded Aleka. "Face us or be hunted! Your meat will taste better than any fruit!"

These were not empty threats. Aleka never made a threat she couldn't keep. She carefully scanned the nearby area while Dessa remained close. A sharp gust blew through the trees and bushes. The air grew tense and damp like the foul breath of a titan. Amazons had a keen sense of the battlefield, especially when it happened to be their home.

Dessa saw that Aleka's vision had already narrowed on a particular area near one of the fruit trees. Standing ready to strike at a moment's notice, she stood by her sister.

"What is it?" asked Dessa under her breath. "A man? A beast? A god?"

"No," said Aleka in a menacing tone. "It's something else…and it's close!"

She didn't wait for Dessa to sense what she sensed. She decided to dispense with further threads and act. With reflexes that Hermes would envy, she attacked a nearby shroud of bushes – chopping away the branches and vines with ease. In doing so, she revealed a male figure hiding behind it. Without hesitation, she pointed the tip of her sword right at his neck.

"There you are!" said Aleka menacingly.

"Impressive," said the figure. "Most impressive!"

"Your next words had best be wiser, male trespasser," she threatened, "because I'm ready to end you where you stand!"

The male figure remained silent, which most likely saved his life – or at least extended it. Upon seeing this figure, Dessa immediately positioned herself at another angle to ensure this trespasser had no means of escape. Anyone who dared set foot on Themyscira had to be dealt with harshly. Anyone who dared sneak up on an Amazon couldn't be some mere mortal either.

Now in an attack stance, Dessa got her first close look at this mysterious male trespasser. While any male presence on Themyscira was distressing, this one appeared more distressing than most.

"This male – he looks different than the others we've seen," Dessa commented.

"He still carries a male stench. That's all I need to know!" said Aleka, now pressing the tip of her sword right against his neck.

"Then I'll be extra careful with my words," the man said. "My name is Tyr-El. I am a man, but I'm different from the men you know and not just because of my disheveled appearance."

"White skin, an uneven complexion, and a scarred disposition," scoffed Aleka, "if you are a man, then you've done a pitiful job maintaining yourself."

"I don't deny that. This complexion you see is a result of hardship and loss," said Tyr-El, gesturing towards his face. "You don't need to know the details. You just need to know that, like you, I am a warrior. And also like you, I am in a difficult predicament."

"And you thought sneaking onto our sacred lands would improve your predicament? That's _not_ very wise," said Aleka, pressing her sword against him even harder.

"I apologize. It was the only way I could get your attention _and_ confirm that the Amazons are the skilled warriors I've been told. Having been conditioned in every stealth tactic this side of the galaxy, the mere fact you detected my presence is sufficient confirmation."

Aleka was still within her right as an Amazon to slit this man's throat where he stood. However, his words and his demeanor intrigued her. Even Dessa couldn't help but be curious. He claimed to be a warrior. His utter lack of fear in the face of a sword was proof of that.

Beyond having the poise of a warrior, there was something else about his demeanor – something that went beyond being a warrior. He did have the stench of a man, but he also carried himself as one who had shed plenty of blood. Any Amazon could smell it on his breath. It gave Dessa and Aleka plenty of reasons not to listen to another word he said. Had Themyscira not been in a state of upheaval, then this man would've since drawn his last breath. Their curiosity, along with all the lingering uncertainties surrounding the Amazons, kept them from slaying this trespasser where he stood.

"What do you know of the Amazons' predicament? What business is it of a man to know _any_ Amazon affairs?" asked Dessa, remaining vigilant.

"We are both in the same business, madam – war, combat, and conquest," said Tyr-El.

"The Amazons fight wars. The Amazons know combat. We are _not_ conquerors," said Aleka. "We leave that kind of barbarism to brutish men."

"What you see as conquest, I see as something else," he replied. "Along with these traits we share, I also see opportunity. I am one man whose army has long since been lost. You Amazons are warriors whose legacy has been plunged into chaos. How I know this shouldn't concern you. Just know that I offer a solution that will aid us both."

"You expect us to trust a _man_ with our legacy?" scoffed Aleka.

"Of course not," said Tyr-El. "I merely ask, from one warrior to another, for the opportunity to show that I can. Because from what I understand, the alternatives do not sit well with those who value that legacy."

With every word he said, their reservations about this man grew. This Tyr-El did not convey an aura of honor or compassion. In fact, he conveyed the exact opposite. He came off as a man who could bathe in the blood of his enemies and do so with glee.

Even with these reservations, his words struck a chord. Aleka and Dessa exchanged looks. The might reek of dishonor, but he knew of the Amazons' plight. How he knew was distressing enough, but the possibility that he might have a solution intrigued them. Any solution that deviated from Diana's known sentiments would intrigue any Amazon. With so much uncertainty, they were all desperate for a way to preserve their traditions and their legacy. So long as they held hold a sword against this man's throat, what was the harm in hearing him out?

"You have less than five minutes to convince me of this _opportunity_ you speak of," said Aleka. "After that, I'm slitting your throat."

"If I cannot convince you in five minutes, I deserve far worse," said Tyr-El with a humored grin. "I'll make this quick and simple. There are powerful forces working against us and with your help, I intend to defeat them in the most effective way possible."

 **Fortress of Solitude – Medical Wing**

" _His vitals are improving. The treatment, along with the concentrated solar array, is accelerating Kal-El's healing. You do not have to stay, Miss Diana. I assure you Kal-El will be fully healed."_

Diana hugged her shoulders and shook her head at the overly polite tone of the robot android monitoring Clark's vitals. It was one of several that rushed to Clark's aid the moment she carried him into the Fortress of Solitude. They began treating his injuries before she could even explain what happened. She then followed them to the medical wing of the fortress where more robot androids joined to treat him.

They claimed they could take care of him. They even claimed his injuries weren't the worst that Superman had endured and she believed them. However, she didn't believe for a second that they understood the extent of his pain.

"I'd rather stay," Diana told the android.

" _Very well,"_ replied the android. _"You are among the few authorized guests Kal-El has sanctioned. Please make yourself comfortable. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to inquire."_

Diana grinned awkwardly at the android before it went back to treating Clark. She wasn't used to dealing with robot assistants. She knew Superman utilized them to maintain his Fortress. It made sense, given the size of this place. But they were more tool than companion, which must make this place feel pretty lonely at times. Perhaps that was the point.

She glanced over towards Clark, who was still conscious while the androids treated him. They laid him out on this special gurney surrounded by an elaborate lamp array that emitted sun-like light. It made sense. Superman drew his powers from sunlight and a concentrated dose helped heal the physical scars. However, it was the emotional scars that worried Diana.

While Clark healed, she briefly stepped out from the medical wing and into the foyer. From here, she could see other parts of the vast fortress, including the central area where Clark had stored some of the larger relics from his world. Chief among them were two large statues depicting his biological parents, Jor-El and Lara Lor-Van. These statues were prominent among all other relics, showing how much Clark treasured them and his family. That only made what he endured hurt even more.

Diana didn't know much about Clark's parents or home world. He only told her and the rest of the Justice League so much about his personal life. Even though he was an icon among men, he was an intensely private person. He did share a little more with her than he did most. He might even share more with Batman, but that might be because he just figured things out more than most.

She had always respected his privacy, as had the rest of the League. But now that his heritage and identity had been shaken, she worried that he would struggle to deal with it on his own.

"Such a large and beautiful place – this Fortress of Solitude," she said to herself. "I understand its purpose, but I'm not sure you understand its effects, Kal. It's one thing to value privacy, but do you really value solitude that much?"

The possible answers to such a question worried her. As she gazed at the statues of Superman's biological parents, Diana imagined he would see them differently from now on. She had already gone through a similar process when she learned about her mother's sordid secrets. She might have kept those secrets out of love, but it didn't make them any less painful.

This didn't just involve Kal's parents though. This involved his entire heritage – the same heritage he shared with such pride not so long ago. There was so much beauty to that heritage, as evidenced by this very fortress. Now, it had been tainted, just like hers had. Having struggled to deal with it herself, she worried how Clark would cope.

"It is a cruel irony. I embraced that solitude after I found out about my mother," she said. "I lamented how no one understood my plight. Now, you might understand it better than anyone, Kal. And I wish to the deepest pits of Hades that you _didn't_."

Diana directed her words towards the statues. They might as well have been the embodiment of her and Kal's plight. They both loved and cherished their heritage with all their heart. Then, a painful revelation came along to taint it. Feeling alone in dealing with such pain was hard enough. But seeing someone she cared for struggle with that same pain – that was much harder.

With a twinge of anger, Diana turned around and re-entered the medical wing. By now, the androids had initiated the bulk of the treatments. They removed the top part of Superman's costume, ensuring his skin exposed more solar radiation. They attached sensors to his torso, arms and head so his vitals could be monitored on a nearby computer. There were still plenty of bruises and welts all over his skin, but those wounds didn't worry Diana nearly as much as the ones the androids weren't treating.

"Is he stable yet?" asked Diana.

" _I can confirm he is stable, Miss Diana. Kal-El will make a full recovery,"_ said one of the androids.

"Good. Can I speak with him?"

" _Yes. You most certainly may,"_ said the android politely.

The androids continued working, monitoring Superman's state. Diana rolled her eyes. These androids might have been advanced and polite, but they weren't bit on subtlety.

"I'd like to speak to him _alone_ ," she clarified.

" _I apologize, Miss Diana. But while Kal-El's treatments are working, additional monitoring is necessary. Please, speak freely if you wish. We are programmed to respect Kal-El's privacy. If it would make you more comfortable, we could…"_

But the android didn't get a chance to respond. Clark, who was still conscious, interrupted.

"It's okay. I'll be fine," he said, hiding his discomfort.

" _Kal-El, I would strongly advise against…"_ began the android before being interrupted again.

"Override," said Clark flatly. "Leave us. She saved my life. I owe her."

Every android in the area stopped what they were doing. They remained reluctant to leave, having been programed to value Kal-El's well-being above all else. Never-the-less, they abided by his wishes.

" _Understood,"_ said one of the androids. _"Please call if you require any further assistance."_

In short order, every android left the room. When the last one exited, the door closed behind it, leaving Diana alone with the wounded Clark. He remained on the special gurney, still under the array of lights beaming solar energy into his wounded body. While some of those wounds were already healing, he was still in a great deal of pain.

Diana could see the extent of that pain. He showed more than he realized, reflecting the tragedy that had struck him both literally and figuratively. Having seen much of that pain in herself, she chose not to say anything at first. She just walked up to his side and offered him a caring gesture.

"Whatever it is you need to tell me, Diana – tell me," he said in a solemn tone, "and tell me fast because I don't intend to lay here much longer."

"You've taken punches from Darkseid and gotten right back up, Kal. I wasn't going to encourage you to rest," said Diana.

"I appreciate that…I think," he replied, "and I already told you. Don't call me Kal anymore."

"Why not? It _is_ your name," she pointed out. "Your parents gave it to you. It's not something you can just reject."

"I can. I did it for most of my life. My parents – the parents that raised me – named me Clark. That _other_ name – it's just another relic that should've stayed buried."

"You don't mean that, Kal," said Diana in a more caring tone.

"Of course I don't!" exclaimed Clark in a sudden outburst. "Maybe not entirely, but – what am I supposed to do with it? You're the only one who even calls me that anyways, although I'm not sure why."

"I have my reasons."

"Well you have more reasons to forget it now! Because that name comes from a legacy built on lies and atrocities! Did they really think it would stay buried forever?"

"You'd be surprised what some parents think," said Diana. "They love their children so much. They'll embrace whatever foolish thoughts they must."

"They – my birth parents – barely knew me," said Clark, his words becoming more bitter.

"But they still _loved_ you," she said strongly. "They loved you enough to save your life at the cost of their own. Their actions speak louder than any thoughts they may have had."

"I know. I know. It's just…"

Clark's words trailed off. He ended up turning away from Diana. Just he act of moving his head made him wince, the pain from his wounds still lingering. But he still felt her powerful gaze on him. It had a much an effect that superseded any wound.

"I don't claim to know what your birth parents were thinking, but I do know a thing or two about family secrets and tainted legacies," said Diana.

"That's right. You know more than most actually," said Clark. "Now I feel like a jerk for forgetting."

"That doesn't make you a jerk. It just shows how upset you are. Believe me, you tend to forget a lot of things when you're angry at yourself, your family, and your entire identity. You're lucky if your name is the _only_ thing you want to throw out."

Clark didn't respond, but he continued to look away – hiding the pain and anger that was still so raw. Diana let him process those feelings, but hoped he wouldn't embrace them. Having struggled with similar feelings, she could only be there for him as any friend could.

Diana had no intention of letting him suffer in solitude, even if it was the primary function of this fortress. She pulled up a nearby chair and sat down next to him. She even placed her hand atop his, conveying as much compassion as he would accept.

"I don't know much about this man – this Tyr-El, as he calls himself," said Diana, "but I do know he's committed horrendous atrocities. And he's capable of committing much more."

"That's not much more than I know, right now," said Clark. "Do I want to know how Batman did it? I'd actually welcome the change in topic, if that's what you're trying to do."

"That's _not_ what I'm doing and it's not like Batman would share those details anyways," she replied. "I just know that Tyr-El's arrival was detected by both the military and the Watchtower. And for whatever reason, General Lane did a poor job of covering up this atrocity."

"He's not one to skimp on his duties – not unless it serves his agenda."

"Well whatever it might be, Tyr-El is progressing much faster. Batman called me when he thought we'd have to confront someone of Superman-level strength – his words, not mine."

"I'm sure he has plans and backup plans for that," said Superman dryly.

"But just after I arrived at the Watchtower, he picked up on two fast-moving signatures – near your Fortress," she added, "and since Flash wasn't in town, I figured it wasn't friendly. That's why I left immediately."

"You really thought I would need help?"

"I thought you would need a friend."

Diana gave his hand a light squeeze, letting him know that her concern went beyond that of a teammate. He acknowledged the gesture, squeezing back to silently thank her for her sentiment. He still wouldn't turn to face her, but he didn't have to. It wasn't necessary in the presence of a friend.

"I'm not telling you this to change the subject. I don't even know if you care how I came to your aid before Tyr-El could kill you," said Diana.

"The thought _did_ cross my mind," Clark admitted.

"What I _do_ know is that personal battles have a way of leaving deep scars – far deeper than any physical scars," she continued. "I'm still fighting those battles. Many of those scars are still fresh. I don't know that I'm qualified to help you, but…"

She stopped when she felt Clark squeeze her hand again. He then finally turned to face her, finally letting her see the conflict in his gaze.

"You _are_ ," he told her. "In fact, you're the _only_ one qualified to understand what I'm going through right now."

"Understanding still isn't the same as helping," Diana pointed out.

"It's still better than nothing," said Clark, "and I do appreciate it…more than I can put into words right now."

The sincerity in his tone momentarily overshadowed the pain and outrage. Her presence and her sentiment had an effect on him – one that seemed to escalate the more she consoled him. In her, he saw many of the same inner conflict. He had seen it before, but he couldn't begin to understand it. Now he understood it more than he ever wished.

Diana offered a weak yet meaningful smile, which helped console him even more. She knew that understanding was difficult to come by. Being an Amazon/demigod was every bit as isolating as being the sole survivor of an entire race. Even if he couldn't put into words its impact, she could still appreciate its power.

"Is it still wrong for me to wish I didn't understand? Or that at least one of us didn't have our lives upended?" she said with a half-grin.

"Not at all," assured Clark, managing a slight grin as well. "It's too late now."

"And I wish I had more to offer. Really, I do," said Diana with a sigh. "Those battles I mentioned – they're not something you can fight with sword. The tainted legacy of my sisters – the secrets surrounding your family – they're carved into the past. We can yell at them, hate them, and be ashamed all we want. We cannot escape it. You want to make the future better, but the atrocities of the past just loom over you like a shadow."

"Is this advice or a warning?" asked Clark. "Because it's not filling me with much hope."

"I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to vent," said Diana sheepishly. "These are things I'm still struggling with too. I'm at as much a loss as you are, Kal – I mean Clark."

"It's okay. You can call me Kal if you want. You can keep venting if you want. If we're both going to struggle with this, at least we can struggle _together_."

Diana almost laughed at such a notion, sharing such a personal struggles. Amazons were supposed to be fiercely independent, relying on others only for the heat of battle. She considered herself more independent than most of her sisters, but for once she didn't mind sharing the struggle. In fact, it felt kind of nice.

A strange silence fell between them. Diana's hand remained within his, still conveying what comfort she could. However, she began conveying more than just comfort. Clark clearly picked up on it. The way he was looking at her – the way he accepted her compassion – it added even more emotional upheaval to this dire situation.

Diana soon found herself moving closer to her wounded friend. Understanding and compassion aside, the scars were still fresh. Emotions were still raw. There were still battles to fight, but for the first time since she learned of her true heritage, it felt as though she didn't have to fight alone. This feeling, and the emotions that came with it, created an unexpected tension in the air.

However, that tension shattered when the door to the infirmary opened and one Superman's androids entered.

" _I apologize for interrupting, Kal-El,"_ it said, _"but something has come up."_

"Um…no need to apologize," said Clark, almost relieved that something broke the tension. "What is it?"

" _An emergency message has come in from Batman. He says it's urgent."_

"Of course he would interrupt at a time like this," said Diana under her breath.

"How urgent?" asked Clark.

" _We're still assessing that as we speak, but our preliminary conclusions indicate that this matter is quite dire."_

"How do you figure?" asked Clark anxiously.

The android paused for a moment. These androids didn't usually hesitate when it came to informing Superman of an issue. Either they were struggling to process this situation or it was far worse than anything they could calculate.

" _Well, we've based these conclusions by factoring in a rather distressing revelation that Batman just shared with us,"_ said the android.

Clark groaned, his wounds festering even more. Diana groaned as well, already having a bad feeling about this.

"We've already had plenty of distressing revelations today. How much worse could this be?" said Clark dryly.

" _That depends. Do you consider Lex Luthor hacking the Fortress of Solitude to be significantly worse?"_

* * *

 **Lexcorp Military Hospital**

Lex Luthor arrived at the military base bearing his name on an unprecedented winning streak. When this day began, he was under house arrest in his own lab while authorities from several countries raided his offices, hoping to find any excuse to arrest him. Now, those same authorities had ceased their meddling. Some even requested his assistance. It was remarkable how exposing an alien fraud raised the value of his genius.

His private helicopter landed at the base less than an hour after his conversation with General Lane ended. As soon as he stepped out, General Lane greeted him with a contingent of military police and marines.

"Thank you for getting here so quickly, Mr. Luthor," said General Lane as they shook hands.

"I'd have gotten here sooner, but I decided to put on a new suit," said Lex, now proudly wearing some of his imported business attire. "Now that I'm back in business, I might as well dress the part."

"This isn't about business, Lex. This is a matter of national security," said the General strongly. "I know you love to turn profits during a crisis. While part of me wants to punch you in the jaw for that, the more rational part of me is willing to foot the bill."

"For a threat like this, is any price too high?"

"Guess we'll find out soon enough."

Lex sneered at the General, who remained as stoic as always. He had to know on some level that Lex was going to exploit this situation for his own gain. However, he also had to know that genius like his came at a price. Even the United States Military's vast resources paled in comparison to his brilliance, especially for a threat like this.

With a sense of urgency growing throughout the base, General Lane led Lex into the facility. The march towards Lex Luthor's next triumph was already in motion. With military police guarding surrounding them, they breezed past security checkpoints and into the belly of the facility that bore Lex Luthor's name. When he was finished, this place would be another shrine to his genius.

"I already briefed the President on the situation," said the General, his tone now strictly tactical as they passed through a checkpoint. "He's canceled every trip for the rest of the week, raised the alert level in every major city, and cashed in a few favors with our allies overseas. He's funneling every possible resource into finding this renegade Kryptonian before he commits another atrocity."

"I take it you showed him pictures of Major Lee," said Lex.

"That was Waller's idea. Not mine," said General Lane, making it clear that he didn't approve of such methods. "Never-the-less, it had the desired effect. It showed what we're up against and what we're risking every moment that alien is on the loose."

"And Superman refuses to help us in any way other than his own," added Lex. "I hope you made that just as clear."

"Rest assured, we're working under the assumption that Superman _can't_ be trusted to deal with this."

"And it took them _this_ long to realize that?" scoffed Lex.

"But this isn't about Superman. This is about containing the situation. It's already causing a public panic after that leak to the Daily Planet. _You_ wouldn't know anything about that. Would you, Lex?"

"Honestly General, would it matter if I did? Given your growing desperation, can you really afford to be petty?"

General Lane scowled Lex, who just shot him a telling half-grin. It confirmed what he suspected, but there was nothing he could do about it and Lex knew that. The General – and the entire United States government, for that matter – needed his genius. He saw in the older man's eyes just how much he wanted to deck him where he stood. The General managed to restrain himself, knowing they had much bigger problems on their hands.

These problems needed to be exposed for all to see. Lex understood this better than anyone in any government. General Lane was a military man. He liked taking care of situations quietly and burying them so that the public never had to know about it. While that made sense from a strictly tactical point of view, it failed at much larger mission.

The General saw this crisis only in the context of stopping a threat to his country. Lex Luthor saw a much bigger picture. This was his chance to expose the fraud of Superman to every man, woman, and child. His humiliation could not be covert. It had to be exposed for all to see.

"We can worry about damage control and PR later. Right now, we must proceed," said Lex, walking out ahead of the General as they entered the medical wing.

"I take it that means you've come up with a plan?" said General Lane.

"Oh please," he scoffed. "I formulated at least nine on the helicopter ride. The one with the highest chance of success involves some important data I collected on Superman's once-storied bloodline. You don't need to know how I got the data. You just need to provide me with that sample you obtained from Major Lee."

General Lane gestured towards one of the female officers escorting them into the facility. She obediently nodded and retrieved a small container from her pocket. It was unmarked, undocumented, and unauthorized. And despite his many misgivings towards Lex Luthor, he gave it to him.

"The doctors _extracted_ this sample with a rape kit," he said. "For the record, I despise any plan that involves exploiting my soldiers."

"But you want a plan that _succeeds_ , don't you?" quipped Lex to the General's chagrin. "That's what I have. That's what you want – what the people want. We need to defeat this alien threat, but we need to do it on _our_ terms. We cannot keep relying on an otherworldly savior to protect us."

"On this, we agree," conceded the General, "but don't confuse _our_ terms with _yours_. If we end up having to rely on you instead of Superman, I don't consider that an improvement."

"On that, we may disagree," said Luthor. "Unlike Superman, I am _human_. My interests, my goals, my dreams – they're all in line with humanity as a whole. I do not need god-like powers to save the world. I just need my superior intellect and the resources to realize it."

Clutching the container, Lex Luthor grinned as every conceivable detail of his plan played out in his mind. Every calculation, every move, every conceivable situation – he had accounted for it all this time. Superman's downfall and Lex Luthor's ascension was all but guaranteed.

After making it through the final security door, Lex led General Lane into a restricted area of the hospital that only a few could access. He had similar areas built into every facility bearing his name. They were lined with lead and armed with extra security. This one in particular had the advanced medical equipment he needed to implement the next part of his plan.

A number of scientists and technicians – all of which he cleared personally – had been working feverishly for the past hour to set everything up. They all shared General Lane's sense of urgency. Lex even made sure they saw footage of the alien's atrocity against Major Lee and her unit. It seemed to motivate them better than any threat or bonus.

Thanks to this motivated effort, the array of equipment and hardware was coming together. At the centerpiece of it all was his mighty warsuit. Forged from technology stolen from Apokalipse, he once tried to best Superman in this suit. He failed. This time, it had a much greater purpose than matching an alien's strength.

"Ah my favorite invention," said Lex Luthor with a grin. "I hope the government didn't scratch it when they confiscated it."

"We didn't. And we couldn't," said the General. "Compared to getting Interpol off your back, getting this thing out of lockdown was, by far, your most unreasonable request."

"It'll pay off in a big way. I assure you," said Lex with the utmost confidence.

"I hope that involves more than just punching this alien into submission. We saw how this thing fared against Superman. You'll need it to do _much_ more against this Tyr-El."

"Not to worry, General. That's exactly what the sample you just gave me will ensure," said Lex as he approached his beloved warsuit.

"Do I want to know how? Or is that going to involve even more unreasonable requests?"

"Believe it or not, it'll get much easier from here on out. With this suit and the data contained in the sample, no Kryptonian will _dare_ threaten the human race again."

As work around the warsuit continued, Lex put the sample back into his pocket. It would stay there until the right moment. Naturally, he had to keep some details to himself. He doubted that General Lane would either approve or understand of his methods. Inferior minds rarely did. Such methods were bound to get messy, but a superior mind could handle it.

It wouldn't be much longer now. General Lane, the United States government, and the entire human race wanted results. Every second that passed was another second that Tyr-El and Superman remained on the loose. So long as they were free, the potential for more atrocities would remain. That meant Lex Luthor's plan couldn't unfold fast enough.

"I can take it from here, General," said Lex. "The only task you need concern yourself with is the complete evacuation of this facility."

"Evacuate?" said the General in confusion. "You want us to abandon a fully-operational military facility? Just so you have room to work?"

"No General – so you and these fine soldiers are out of harm's way," he said, appealing to the General's military sensibilities. "You have men and women here who are not equipped to deal with an alien menace like this – including wounded personnel, like Major Lee. For their safety, and your own, get them out of this facility and to a secure location."

It was probably the most reasonable request Lex Luthor had made to this point. General Lane certainly wasn't going to argue with it. Too many soldiers had already suffered at the hands of Tyr-El. He wouldn't tolerate one more victim. Lex definitely knew this and was likely exploiting it, as he always did.

He still refused to trust Lex Luthor more than he had to. But if he wanted to prove that he was as superior as he claimed, then he was willing to give him a chance. Setting aside any remaining misgivings, General Lane turned back towards his officers and signaled them to start clearing out.

"We'll be out of the building within four hours. I'll make sure of it," said General Lane.

"Better make it three," said Luthor. "When Kryptonians are involved, things tend to get volatile quickly. And not everyone has the stomach for it."

* * *

 **Dailey Planet – Outside Restrooms**

"Um…Lois? Are you done in there yet?" asked Jimmy Olsen as he anxiously knocked on the door to the women's restroom. "Cat's five minutes away from calling an ambulance."

At first, there was no response. Then, he heard it again.

"Huuaaaggghhhhhh!"

He immediately cringed, the sounds of Lois throwing up once again filling the restroom. It had already been cleared out. Lois made it a point to kick everyone out as soon as she stumbled in. That's nearly fifteen minutes later, she was still vomiting – sounding sicker than she had ever been before.

Jimmy did his best to keep his own stomach in check. He sat next to the door with his back against the wall, doing his best to process everything that was happening. This day started off so promising. Superman unveiled the first ever exhibit on Krypton at the Metropolis Museum. It opened to all sorts of fanfare. He and Lois had been there to see it. Then, it all took a very dark turn when Lois got a tip from Lex Luthor of all people.

"Hnn…don't remember eating _that_ ," groaned Lois from the bathroom.

"And you mocked me for skipping lunch," said Jimmy under his breath.

"I heard that!" barked Lois. "And if you think you're going to hold this over me, you…"

She abruptly paused. Before she got another word out, another round of vomiting took over.

"Huuaaaggghhhhhh!"

"Duly noted, Lois," said Jimmy.

It was more disturbing with every labored heave. Lois Lane was one of the toughest human beings Jimmy knew. She had seen war zones, invading alien armies, and a hung over Perry White. It took a lot to make her sick, but this kind of distress was uncharted territory for all of them.

Even while hiding out in the hallway, Jimmy could hear the chaos that had consumed the offices of the Daily Planet. As soon as Lois told Perry about the files she got from Luthor, a shouting match erupted within his office. An impromptu meeting followed where everyone learned of this terrible story that shattered what was supposed to be historic for all the right reasons. Now it was still historic, but in the worst possible way.

The graphic photos of those maimed soldiers remained vivid in Jimmy's mind. He had seen horrific photos before. He had never seen anything like this. But it was the name of that Kryptonian – Tyr-El, as Lex's info identified him – that really made those images sickening. This wasn't just another renegade beast from Apokalipse. The world could handle that sort of thing now. But this creature was directly related to Superman – a distant grandfather if the information was accurate. That very idea – the thought that someone from Superman's own family could commit such atrocities – was much harder to handle.

Jimmy didn't want to believe it at first. Like everyone else at the Daily Planet, he had learned not to trust anything that came from Lex Luthor. But when that information came along with photos, classified military reports, and data hacked directly from Superman's Fortress of Solitude, it was hard to just shrug off. As of now, Perry White and the rest of the office was operating under the assumption that it was mostly valid. They weren't the only ones either. The story was starting to leak into other mediums, trending on the internet and breaking into news feeds that had been praising Superman's museum exhibit just a few hours ago.

"Grandson of an alien monster – his very name linked to atrocities no human can fathom," said Jimmy, who had been reading some of the news feeds on his phone. "How could they do this to him? After everything Superman has done, how can they turn on him like this? _He_ didn't do anything. His ancestors did!"

He said those same words earlier in the meeting with Perry. He actually agreed with him. But they couldn't ignore these ties. This distant grandfather of his, Tyr-El, wasn't some obscure reference in a history book. This monster was actually here on Earth. He had already demonstrated the depths of his cruelty when he assaulted those soldiers. Superman never mentioned him, let alone warned anybody about him. Now, they were all vulnerable.

While Jimmy believed whole-heartedly that Superman didn't know about Tyr-El, the rest of the general public was less willing to make such assumptions. As the news spread, people began twisting the truth in their own way.

"A lie? A fraud? An alien conspiracy to turn us all into cattle?" groaned Jimmy as he saw some of the headlines. "How can people say this crap about Superman?"

It made him sick to his stomach. He could only imagine how sick Lois felt. The heaving had died down, but he could still hear her groaning in the bathroom. She had been the one to receive the data. She ended up being the one who reported it. She single-handedly shattered Superman's legacy in the eyes of the public. Having such personal ties to Superman, it was hard to stomach.

"Jimmy…is anyone else out there? Is Perry hiding behind the door?" said a very sickly Lois from inside the restroom.

"No. It's just me. Think you scared everyone off," replied Jimmy.

"Good. I don't have the stomach for more of their crap right now…literally."

She finally flushed the toilet. Jimmy then heard the sink run for a bit. He figured she wanted to fix herself up so that she didn't look as sick as she felt. But when the door to the restroom opened and Lois came stammering out, he questioned the extent of her efforts.

She looked awful on a level Jimmy had never seen. Her lipstick and makeup were smeared beyond repair. Her hair was frizzy and messy. Her blouse was wrinkled and stained with something that he didn't want to identify. This was not the poised, confident Lois Lane that once stared down a parademon. This was a woman who took a gut check to the heart.

"Did Cat call that ambulance?" said Lois, still leaning on the walls for support.

"No. Should I tell her we're in the clear?" asked Jimmy.

"Give me another five minutes just in case. For all I know, I threw up some organs in there."

Jimmy cringed at the thought, but kept Cat on standby none-the-less. Now disheveled and beleaguered, Lois sat down next to Jimmy on the floor. She kept her back against the wall, the rest of her body refusing to support her. She held her head low, distraught and overwhelmed by what had just transpired.

He chose not to say anything. He put away his phone, having read enough terrible headlines for one day. He briefly thought about consoling Lois. Then, he remembered that she didn't like to be consoled. She liked to let the cold, hard truth hit her in full force.

"Be honest with me, Jimmy," said Lois distantly. "Did I just destroy Superman? Did I just succeed where Lex Luthor failed?"

"Lois, you're talking about a guy who took a punch from Darkseid and beat back Brainiac. He's not going to fall because of a news flash," said Jimmy.

"I'm not talking about Superman the _man_. I'm talking about Superman the _hero_ ," said Lois. "The man can survive damn near anything, but he's always strived to be more than a man – a true Superman. From the first day he showed up to the first time he humiliated Lex Luthor, he's tried to help people – to be this shining ideal for everyone to look up to."

"He still is. If not, he still can be."

"That's just it. I think I might have _ruined_ it for him," she said solemnly. "On the same day he decides to finally share his legacy with us, I help announce that this legacy has a blind spot."

"A blind spot he might not have known about," retorted Jimmy. "You don't really think he would keep a secret like Tyr-El from us, do you?"

"Of course not! He's Superman. He doesn't keep those kinds of secrets – especially not from me," said Lois, getting more upset with every word. "It doesn't matter if he knew. The story is starting to tell itself. Superman _isn't_ that shining ideal we wanted him to be. He's the great-great-grandson of some Kryptonian version of Freddy Kruger."

"And I thought we, as a society, stopped condemning people for the sins of their ancestors," scoffed Jimmy.

"It would be one thing if this guy was just some footnote in the past, but he isn't. He's _here_ now. And no matter what Superman does, people are going to link him and Tyr-El. They look at one and see the other. It's not fair. It's not just. It's not _right_. But that's how it's going to play out."

It was jaded, cynical assumption, but Jimmy couldn't argue with it. The headlines he saw on his phone proved it. The context and extent of the truth didn't matter. People read the details of this atrocity. They saw the connection between Superman and Tyr-El. They then filled in the blanks on their own. It was tragic because it twisted the truth, undermining everything Superman stood for. It made him feel ashamed to be human.

He still couldn't feel nearly as bad as Lois right now. Looking over at her, he saw an anger in her gaze that her disheveled form did little to hide. She was angry at Lex Luthor, Superman, and Tyr-El. But most of all, she was angry at herself.

"I could've done something," she said distantly. "I could've sat on it for a while – looked into a bit deeper, just to make sure I wasn't playing into Lex's hands. I could've even cashed more favors with Perry – gotten him to delay the story until someone could actually talk to Superman."

"But you didn't," said Jimmy, "and everybody understands why you didn't."

"Yeah, yeah – my goddamn journalistic integrity," she said dryly. "I pursue the truth and nothing more, trusting it to stand on its own. God, now that I think about it, it really _does_ sound naïve."

"That doesn't make it any less right."

"I know, damn it! Superman would probably say the same thing. He wouldn't even hold it against me, which actually makes me feel _worse_!"

Her stomach started churning again. She groaned as another wave of nausea came over her. This time, Jimmy did console her. She still hated being consoled, but she didn't reject it either.

"You shouldn't apologize for telling the truth, Lois. That's the first lesson you taught me," said Jimmy, "and the second lesson Superman taught me."

"I'm not apologizing. I doubt Superman would accept it either," said Lois with another sigh, "but I _can't_ be the one that destroys everyone's faith in him. He's not going to stop being Superman. We can't stop supporting him, no matter how much people twist the truth."

"I'm with you Lois. Really, I am," said Jimmy, "but how do we even do that at this point? Between your father, Tyr-El, and Lex Luthor, where would we even begin?"

These were the questions that plagued him and Lois. These were the questions nobody was asking in wake of the chaos surrounding Tyr-El. Lois closed her eyes and rested her head back up against the wall. She hated the idea of going back into her office where everyone was scrambling to make sense of this story.

Everyone was lamenting, afraid of Tyr-El and what he meant for Superman's legacy. Fear often bred uncertainty and as a result, the truth became an afterthought. They had to be better. They owed it to Superman to find the answers. Even if the world couldn't have its living ideal, it still needed its greatest hero.

As Lois contemplated these questions, another feeling came over her. This time, it didn't involve the kind that made her want to vomit. Despite looking and feeling terrible, she picked herself up from the floor.

"I don't know what we can do, Jimmy. It might already be too late," said Lois, "but I do know where we can start."

"You do?" said Jimmy with the first glimmer of hope all afternoon.

"Yes," she affirmed, "and the first part involves you telling Perry I'm heading out into the field. If possible, convince him to hold off on any follow-up stories until he hears from me."

"The first part I can do, but the second part…"

Lois didn't let him finish.

"Jimmy…do it for, Superman."

Jimmy groaned and shook his head. She just had to play that card at a time like this. It annoyed the hell out of him, but he didn't dare refuse. Rising up from the floor as well, he was prepared to trust Lois. For Superman's sake, he hoped she knew what she was doing.

"I won't make any promises I can't keep, but Perry does owe us both a few favors," said Jimmy.

"Cash in as many as you need. There has to be another story here. I just need to find it," said Lois as she began walking towards the elevator.

"And where do you think you'll find it?" asked Jimmy.

"Same way it found us," said Lois, "with my father."

* * *

 **Fortress of Solitude**

Diana didn't expect Clark to stay bedridden for long. Even though every one of his robot androids advised him to rest, he got back on his feet as soon as he was strong enough to stand. The revelation that Lex Luthor hacked the Fortress of Solitude proved to be a potent painkiller. The pain of his tainted legacy took a back seat to the anger he now felt towards Lex.

But by the time he dragged himself to the central core of his fortress, the damage had spread. News feeds from all over the world came streaming in, manifesting in holographic displays that were projected all throughout the atrium. The atrocities of Tyr-El and the secrets of Superman's legacy didn't stay hidden for long. These horrific revelations were now global news.

" _We have a breaking development in the renegade Kryptonian story. Moments ago, officials from the Metropolis Metropolitan Museum have announced that the facility will be closed until further notice. This comes less than an hour after protests erupted outside the museum. These protests come in response to stunning revelations about Superman's Kryptonian heritage. The revelations have already gone viral."_

This particular news broadcast came along with footage of the riots outside the museum. Earlier that day, people gathered in peace to praise Superman's contribution and welcome his culture. Now, an entire different group of people were throwing trash, rocks, and anything they could carry at the locked doors of the museum.

" _Superman is a fraud! He brought this monster to our world!"_

" _Get out! Go home! Take your shit and get off our planet!"_

" _You're no hero! You're a liar! You LIED to us all!"_

There was a lot of hate in these words. However, there was also a great deal of fear. Diana could sense it in their collective voices. They heard about the atrocities committed by this monster. They were afraid for themselves, their families, and their world as a whole. They had all seen Superman's feats of strength and power. The idea that someone just as strong as him could commit such atrocities was truly terrifying.

Whether by fear or hatred, Diana couldn't blame them entirely for their sentiment. It struck her because these atrocities reminded her of those her sisters were guilty of. She couldn't help but wonder if these same people would be protesting her if they knew the truth about her legacy. However, the truth about Superman's legacy posed a more immediate threat and numerous news outlets help spread the fear.

" _A wealth of data, allegedly hacked from the very exhibit Superman so proudly displayed earlier today, has made its rounds through every corner of the internet,"_ reported a news anchor from another global network. _"This same hack also revealed the horrific incident involving the rogue Kryptonian, Tyr-El. While a spokesperson from the United States Military stated that this hack was illegal, they have none-the-less confirmed that this creature is still at large. The Dailey Planet, who initially broke the story, has also confirmed that Tyr-El is indeed related to Superman. But as for Superman himself, he has yet to make a statement. This leaves many to wonder – what else does he have to hide?"_

Diana sneered at such insinuations. After everything Superman had done for the world, the very people he protected turned on him so quickly. Even if it was purely out of fear, it still disgusted her to no end.

She ended up punching the source of the feed that dared ask this question, breaking the crystal projecting it in the process. There were still dozens more projecting this filth. She would've shattered them all if they weren't capable of repairing themselves. She preferred to save her energy for a more tangible enemy.

"Misguided fools!" she said grimly. "Are people really _that_ short-sighted? Have they already forgotten all the times you've saved this world?"

Clark, who hadn't been paying much attention to the news, remained hunched over the main archive console near the core of his fortress. He was still shirtless and covered in bruises, having to lean on the crystalline console for support. He had already become numb to such a reaction.

"Don't condemn them outright, Diana. They're right to be angry," said Clark. "I'd be more concerned if they _weren't_."

"How can you say that?" exclaimed Diana. "They're using this one atrocity that you were _not_ responsible to reject Superman. How is that fair? How is that just? These people are just so…"

"Petty? Unreasonable? Irrational?" said Clark before she could complete her thought. "A renegade alien with my power and unparalleled bloodlust is on the loose. They have no way to protect themselves against Tyr-El – no way of knowing his agenda. So why wouldn't they feel this way?"

"I still think you're too understanding, Kal."

He remained fixated on the console in front of him, but he still heard every detail from the news reports. This was a man who could hear a spider spinning its web from a mile away. There's no way he could completely ignore it. If it did bother him, he did a good job of hiding it.

"There's nothing I can do about it, Diana," he said distantly. "It's human nature. But that nature, it seems, isn't just restricted to humans. See for yourself."

Having had enough of the news, Diana joined Clark near the console. She was still fuming, but resisted the urge to shatter more crystals. She could tell this was tearing Clark up – his whole legacy being shattered by this one, terrifying revelation. Now that legacy had shattered in a very public way, but that still wasn't what hurt most.

At the console, Diana saw Clark using various hand gestures to manipulate the largest, most precious crystal in his fortress. This crystal, as she understood it, contained the bulk of the data on Krypton's history, culture, and heritage. It also contained the data on the House of El. At the moment, Clark had singled out this data. What he saw seemed to add to his anguish.

It came in another series of holograms that were projected directly from the crystal. Some contained images of Kryptonian cities and various depictions of Kal-El's family. Diana couldn't read Kryptonian, but she did notice one particular area of coded static in the middle. This had been the data that Clark had focused on since he got up and it upset him more than any news report.

"Watch this," he said. "Computer, tell me about Tyr-El."

The crystal flashed briefly, giving off its distinct yellow hue, before it responded.

" _Access denied."_

"Computer, this is Kal-El…son of Jor-El. Under my authority, I order you…tell me about Tyr-El!"

" _Access denied,"_ the computer repeated.

"Denied under whose authority?" he asked, showing more frustration.

The computer flashed again, this time more erratically. It actually struggled to process this inquiry, which was something Kryptonian technology was not supposed to do.

" _Unable to respond appropriately. Please try again."_

Clark then turned towards Diana, letting her see the frustration in his eyes. He looked every bit as inclined as her to punch the crystal. It confirmed what he had already surmised. His own family had kept secrets from him. Having been frustrated by family secrets herself, Diana could understand his sentiment more than most.

"Now watch this," Clark continued. "Computer, override denial. Access log entry protocols KL19-82760."

This time, the crystal didn't need nearly as much time to process.

" _Access granted,"_ said the computer.

"That was…convenient," commented Diana. "How did you know those protocols would work?"

"Because they're the same ones Lex Luthor used to hack the Fortress' systems," said Clark grimly.

It sent a chill down her spine, along with a twinge of anger. The idea that Lex Luthor had hacked the Fortress of Solitude seemed outrageous, yet terrifying. Diana could only imagine the kind of damage he could do with such information. However, she doubted that Clark had to imagine.

"How did he…" began Diana, only to have Clark turn back to the console.

"I don't know. I think he used the crystals on display at the museum as some sort of quantum hub," he said. "I screened those crystals thoroughly, but I guess Lex still found a way. He always does. He's _smart_ like that."

"So why haven't you thrown him into the nearest active volcano?" asked Diana with folded arms.

"Because it doesn't matter how he did it…or even _why_ he did it," he replied. "For once, he exposed an injustice rather than creating one. He's not the one hid this secret shame of the House of El. My father did that…just as my grandfather before him…and my great grandfather before that. They all tried to bury Tyr-El in the deepest, darkest parts of Krypton's history. But as you and I both know, the truth has a way of digging itself out."

It was strange that Clark did not show more animosity towards Lex Luthor. Then again, they were all so used to him committing such egregious acts. The idea that he merely exposed the truth rather than obscure it seemed strange, but it didn't change the end result.

Instead, Clark directed his outrage solely towards the image before him after access had been granted. The static hologram that had been buried in the countless sea of data stored within the crystals began to form new images. These images soon overshadowed all the others and Tyr-El's ominous image was at the center of it all.

"The truth, in this case, is far bloodier than anything Lex Luthor could ever conjure," said Clark distantly. "Tyr-El represents one of the darkest eras in Krypton's history. The fact that I'm related to him just makes it sting a lot more."

"Every culture goes through brutal eras. I'm still trying to draw mine out of one," Diana pointed out. "We can't let ourselves be defined by them."

"But we can't – and shouldn't – ignore the horrors that came with it," he said solemnly. "According to this data cluster, Tyr-El was born in the thick of this brutality. Back then, my family was known as the Clan of El. We were just one of many families on Krypton trying to stake our claim on a power vacuum that emerged after the last Kryptonian monarch was deposed. Our clan tried harder than most because by the time he was seven, he had already killed…a lot."

Another series of holograms played out. These holograms ran movie-like scenes that depicted the violence and chaos of that era. Countless Kryptonians, no different than Tyr-El, stormed the fields of Krypton's alien landscape, slaughtering one another with unmitigated brutality. Diana had seen plenty of brutal conflicts as an Amazon. This tested even her stomach for war.

"But Tyr-El wasn't just a brute. In fact, he was extremely intelligent and cunning…making him _far_ more dangerous," Clark continued. "He learned early on that when your clan is so brutal that your enemies would rather not fight, you have an advantage. And he exploited that advantage to the utmost – even refining it to a science of sorts."

The holograms depicted more graphic battle scenes, but this time the battle was more lopsided. Images of Tyr-El and soldiers slaughtering innocents, raping women, and razing homes filled the Fortress. Such brutality made Diana sick in a ways few things could. She could only imagine how Clark must have felt.

"Those sadistic beasts!" gasped Diana.

"That's being too kind," said Clark. "What you're looking at is Tyr-El's pride and joy, the Doomsday Legion."

"Doomsday? As in the beast that killed you?"

"No. Not entirely, anyways," replied Clark. " _That_ monstrosity came later, but Tyr-El was responsible for its predecessor. What he would do is take ordinary Kryptonian foot-soldiers, subject them to some sort of _conditioning_ , and unleash them on enemy populations. Some of this conditioning involved genetic tampering and bio-enhancement technology – both of which were highly illegal under several inter-stellar treaties. That would partially explain his twisted appearance – and Doomsday's, for that matter."

Other holograms depicted these modifications. Ordinary Kryptonians, which looked similar to Clark, were strapped to gurneys and injected with various cocktails of drugs and exotic energies. They then thrashed out in anger and cried out in agony as their bodies were transformed, becoming pale, bulky, and even more imposing.

Another nearby hologram depicted the reactions of innocents to these creatures. Men, women, and children – many of which who weren't warriors – fled in terror at the mere sight of them. It didn't matter how fast they ran or how hard they cried. Tyr-El and his Doomsday Legion still caught them and tortured them.

"Needless to say, the Doomsday Legion developed quite a reputation," said Clark. "There are stories – horrifying stories – of entire communities committing suicide over _rumors_ of their presence."

"A dishonorable, but far less cruel fate," said Diana solemnly.

"It wasn't just restricted to Krypton either. Tyr-El unleashed this legion on other planets as well – planets he thought were trying to exploit Krypton's situation. The scope and scale of his battle was so broad…so great that it single-handedly ended the chaos of that era. However brutal Tyr-El's tactics might have been, they go the job done. They helped forge a new, stable order."

"But that didn't stop the atrocities, did it?" Diana surmised.

Clark shook his head solemnly. He felt the lingering wounds on his body sting, as though they were echoes of Tyr-El's atrocities. Diana understood how the atrocities of the past could sting – more so than anyone. He ended up skipping large chunks of the data cluster, many of which just covered more of Tyr-El's atrocities. He didn't need to see every last one of them to confirm what Diana already knew.

"No. It didn't," said Clark grimly. "Tyr-El was prepared to make the Doomsday Legion the iron fist of Krypton. He believed that they could expand Krypton's influence and forge an inter-stellar empire like no other. He even began the process, forging alliances and subduing potential enemies in the worst way possible. He had this terrible tactic where he would find an entire community, ravage them in the worst way possible, and leave a couple of survivors to spread the word of his atrocity."

"Just like he did with Major Lee," said Diana, her stomach still churning at such a tactic.

"Yes. And just like her, it got the point across," he said. "As word of his brutality spread, nobody wanted to fight him or his monsters. Krypton had so much to gain. But all the pain and terror he inflicted – it was just too much for Kryptonians of that era, or any others, to stomach."

This was the point where Kryptonian history entered a gray area. Censorship, secrets, and shame obscured the truth, but could not hide it. The world was still processing it thanks to Lex Luthor's hacking. Clark had already come to accept it as a taint on his heritage that he could not avoid.

Another holographic scene played out. This time, it was less brutal and more solemn. It showed Tyr-El being subdued and his Doomsday Legion being disbanded. How this happened was another testament to the House of El's shame.

"In the end, it was Tyr-El's own son – my other distant grandfather – who turned against him," said Clark.

"An act of desperate redemption?" said Diana.

"More like a treachery of convenience," scoffed Clark. "His son conspired with a number of allies to take his father down. They tricked him, imprisoned him, and dissolved his entire order – replacing it with what eventually became Krypton's High Council."

"I usually _despise_ treachery, but in this instance I'll make an exception."

"You and everyone else on Krypton. Tyr-El didn't expect his son to betray him. It was the only way he ever could've been stopped. Disbanding the Doomsday Legion was the only way to show to Krypton's allies that they were committed to condemning his atrocities. They helped make their point by throwing every last member of the Doomsday Legion into a black hole."

"A black hole? Not the Phantom Zone?" said Diana, remembering that this had been the usual domain for Krypton's prisoners.

"They saw that as too merciful," said Clark, "and I'm inclined to agree with them. But for Tyr-El himself, even a black hole was too quick. In a ceremony that his son used as a peace offering of sorts, he personally locked his father in a special containment chamber and launched it into the galactic core. He made sure Tyr-El was conscious the whole time and would be awake when he was consumed by the singularity."

Another hologram depicted this ceremony. It wasn't exactly joyous, but it certainly was passionate. Images of Kryptonians and various other aliens spitting on Tyr-El's chamber played out. Masses of Kryptonians and various beings lined the streets of Krypton's Capital Plaza. There was a collective sense of outrage and remorse amidst the crowd – a recognition that their bloodlust created Tyr-El. The shame they felt was palpable. She couldn't blame them for wanting to forget.

"I admire your people for recognizing the injustice Tyr-El was spreading. I still say his fate was too good for him," said Diana. "So how did he survive it?"

"I have no idea. He _shouldn't_ have survived. He _should've_ died years ago, thereby allowing my family and future generations to bury his atrocities," said Clark, his own shame consuming him, as it did his ancestors. "It makes me wonder why my father or his father or whoever didn't just _delete_ this data."

"I'm sure they had reasons – good reasons," said Diana.

"Therein lies the problem," he said solemnly. "I don't doubt those reasons were good. When I first unlocked these crystals, one of the first things Jor-El did was admit his failure to stopping Krypton's destruction. It's one of the core tenants of the House of El. We admit our failures as much as we celebrate our successes. I guess that doesn't make him a _complete_ hypocrite."

Recalling his biological father's words, Clark closed his eyes and slammed his fists on the console. He slammed so hard that the crystals cracked and the holograms disappeared. Even in accepting the truth, it still pained him. It pained him in ways that he had never felt before either as Superman or Clark Kent.

Diana, sensing the depths of his pain, attempted to console him. She walked up behind him, placed a hand on his shoulder, and tried to comfort him as best she could. It kept him from smashing more crystals, but it didn't make his burden any less painful.

"He still _had_ to have known!" exclaimed Clark angrily. "He _had_ the same burden – being related to Tyr-El! Except now, he has the luxury of being dead! I don't!"

"Kal, don't do this again," urged Diana.

"Why shouldn't I? It's my family! My legacy! My responsibility!" he shouted. "You of all people should understand that. Hell, you might be the _only_ one who understands it after what happened with your mother."

It took a moment for the weight of his words to sink in. They were an indirect link to the painful revelations surrounding Diana's own family. It still struck her – the mere mention of these secrets and how they had upended her world. Despite his agitated state, Clark immediately regretted his words.

Rather than build on his growing list of regrets, he held his head low and placed his hand atop Diana's. She didn't pull away or lash out at him, but he did sense a reaction from her.

"I'm sorry, Diana. I shouldn't have said that," he said.

"Don't be. It's not wrong," said Diana. "I can't escape it. I am Diana, the daughter of Hippolyta and Zeus – the product of a sordid affair. I am an Amazon, a tribe of female warriors who have propagated by slaughtering innocent men, bearing their children, and abandoning their sons. I can no more hide from this legacy than you can hide from that of yours."

"That's what bugs me the most – that we can't escape it, no matter what we do," said Clark, now leaning over the console in despair.

"That might be true, but we don't have to let it define us. That's what I've been struggling with myself. I'm trying to figure it out – how to build a better legacy while not forgetting its flaws. It isn't easy. It _shouldn't_ be easy. But I'm starting to realize that, as hard a burden it might be, it's something I don't have to do on my own."

Diana then dared to comfort him even more. She snaked her arms around his waist and pulled him into a warm embrace from behind. She ended up resting her chin on his shoulder, looking at their reflection together in the broken crystals on the console.

It seemed symbolic of their situations. Their legacies and their identities had been shattered. Yet here they were, sharing these burdens together. Seeing her with his reflection and feeling the warmth of her embrace had a powerful effect – one that went beyond comfort.

Clark affectionately took her hands in his, giving them a firm yet soft squeeze. For a brief moment, the pain and frustration in his eyes subsided. He remained fixated on his skewed reflection. There were no more holograms playing. There was no more data to analyze. There was just him and Diana, standing at a crossroads together. Just not having to stand alone gave him a strength.

With that strength, Clark came to a realization. He hated that his father kept secrets. He hated that Lex Luthor exposed those secrets even more. With every moment that passed, the legacy of Superman and the House of El grew darker. The people were responding with fear and hatred. He needed to respond as well.

"You're right. I _can't_ do this on my own, Diana," said Clark.

"You won't have to. You have me," said Diana with a smile.

"And the Justice League, right?" he added.

"Right…them too," she said sheepishly, unable to correct herself fast enough.

"I'll need all the help I can get. I _won't_ let Tyr-El turn Earth into another one of his atrocities," he said strongly, "and I think I have a way to do just that."

This surprised Diana somewhat. It sounded like Clark already had a plan in mind. With renewed determination, he shrugged off his despair and turned around. He remained within her arms. However, he also caressed her face with his hands, conveying some unexpected emotion that caught Diana off-guard.

He now looked at her with a new intensity – one that both intrigued and concerned her. Clark still had the look of a man reeling from the pain of all so many painful secrets. But now, he also had the look of a man willing to do something about them.

"Diana, if I'm going to stop Tyr-El, I'm going to need more than just emotional support," said Clark in a more serious tone.

"You know I'm here for you, Kal…Clark…whatever you want to call yourself," said Diana, already anxious of where this was going.

"You might come to regret that, Diana," he said, "because I can't just bring Tyr-El to justice. I have to kill him. I have to finish what my ancestors started."

This revelation alone was pretty striking. Superman did not take killing lightly. He never dared consider this method unless there was absolutely no other way. Tyr-El was an extreme case – one who could inflict suffering and injustice on a level few could imagine. It certainly qualified as one of those rare cases, but it couldn't be that simple. Diana knew this man too well to assume as such.

"Like I said, I'm here for you. I know you're not eager to take a life, no matter whose it might be," said Diana. "I'll still be there if it comes to that."

"Then I hope you don't hate me for this more than I already hate myself," said Clark, now embracing her a little closer, "because in order to kill Tyr-El, you might have to kill us _both_."

* * *

 **Up next: Rising Bloodlust**


	5. Rising Bloodlust

**Broken Legacy  
Chapter 5: Rising Bloodlust**

* * *

 **Outside Lexcorp Military Hospital**

"We're rolling out in 10 minutes! Anyone still here after 11 can consider themselves demoted!" said the stern voice of General Sam Lane. "Is that clear?"

"Sir, yes sir!" replied his soldiers in perfect unison.

The General's role in Lex Luthor's elaborate plan to stop Tyr-El was almost complete and he couldn't finish it fast enough. Being an egotistical bastard, Lex wanted to take care of this himself. That meant getting every last solider, officer, and associated military personnel off this base and into another zip code. Content to let Lex flex that ego, General Lane complied and made sure his soldiers didn't have stay longer than necessary.

For the past several hours, he oversaw the complete evacuation of this facility. Most of the soldiers here were military police tasked with overseeing the care of those wounded in combat. This meant every one of them had to coordinate in order to get those wounded soldiers out of their rooms and into transports. This proved difficult, due to the injuries that some of these soldiers sustained. General Lane watched men and women who were missing limbs, confined to wheelchairs, and in chronic pain make their way into transports. It added more urgency to this grim task.

Major Sandra Lee was among the last to leave her room. General Lee made sure he was at the front entrance to the facility when she came out. Being both wounded and a rape victim, the doctors handled her with extra care. However, she didn't necessarily appreciate it.

"Get your hand off me!" barked the Major. "I swear I'll bite it off if you touch me again!"

"I apologize, Major," said one of the beleaguered doctors. "Just hold still for a little bit longer."

"Stop apologizing, damn it! I've been _raped_. Feeling sorry for me doesn't undo it."

She sneered at the soldiers and doctors handling her. They continued to exercise caution as they loaded her into the transport. She was in a great deal of discomfort. General Lane could see it in the way she winced when they lifted her out of her wheelchair. Being a hardened soldier, she refused to let others see her pain. No amount of sympathy could make it go away. It reminded the General of what was at stake here.

No matter how much he distrusted Lex Luthor, he could not stomach the idea of another atrocity. It was the ultimate horror of war – the men being slaughtered while the women were raped. He had seen it one too many times in one too many battles. However, the scope and scale of those battles was always limited. This alien, however, had no such limits. That meant there would be no limit to his atrocities.

Major Lee was one victim too many. The fate of many other potential victims was now in the greedy hands of Lex Luthor. With the Major secured, the United States Military was ready to abandon this site. Numerous transports and helicopters were already moving. The men and women here were just as eager to leave as him.

"Time to move out," said General Lane before turning back to the building. "Luthor, I better not regret this…for your sake and ours."

The General then climbed into a nearby jeep that one of his officers had already prepared for him. As soon as he sat down, it began moving towards the main gate. Other vehicles began moving as well, following him out of the facility. Lex may have had the harder job now, but General Lane still had to placate a nervous President and a curious Amanda Waller. He had to convince them that they could trust Luthor to get the job done. Such a task might not be possible, but it might not matter in the end.

As he contemplated how this conversation would unfold, the driver of the jeep slowed down unexpectedly.

"What's going on?" asked General Lane sternly.

"Um…we've got a slight obstruction at the main gate, sir," said the officer anxiously.

"Obstruction? What do you mean? Can't we run it over?" he said impatiently.

"I…don't think you want that, sir," said the officer.

"Why the hell not?"

"Because…it's your daughter. She's here. And she's asking to speak with you."

 **Themyscira – Central Palace**

Diana arrived in the heart of her homeland with a mix of urgency, uncertainty, and any number of emotions she could not process at the moment. Whatever emotions she struggled with had to be secondary, but not by much. There was work to be done and a monster to stop.

She arrived at the Central Palace late in the afternoon. As she flew over the island paradise, she saw that her home was still plenty active. Her sisters kept themselves busy with training, study, and chores – still waiting for her first decree as queen. That decree would come soon enough. Clark had entrusted her with a vital task in his plot to stop Tyr-El. She had no intention of undermining that trust, even though it pained her on some levels.

" _You're the strongest, bravest, toughest warrior I know, Diana. You've always done what needed to be done and then some. You're the only one who can see this through if I fail. I know that no matter what happens, I trust you'll do the right thing."_

Clark's words had been echoing in her head since she left the Fortress of Solitude. It strained her heart when he first said it, but it also strengthened it with his sentiment. He understood that what he was asking a lot of her – more than he had ever asked of anyone.

After landing the main balcony of the palace, Diana made her way over to the large armory chest that was adjacent to the royal bed. It contained some of the most finally-crafted weapons in all of Themyscira. Many of them had been forged by Hephaestus. It included arrows, bows, bracelets, and boots – all blessed by the gods and endowed with god-like power.

These were weapons her mother once carried with her into battle. They were so powerful and precious that most Amazons were forbidden from wielding them. In wake of her mother's death, Diana was now the only one permitted to wield them. Every one of them might have helped against Tyr-El. But for what Clark asked of her, she needed only a sword.

"The Artemis Blade," said Diana distantly as she gripped it in her hand, "forged by Hephaestus, wielded by the goddess whose name it bears, and capable of slaying a titan. This will certainly do what you ask, Kal. I just hope it doesn't come to that."

As she gazed at the blade, some of those emotions she tried to shut out earlier came rushing back. Staring at her reflection in the polished blade, she saw Clark again – the desperate look in his eyes that reflected his wounded soul. She had seen that look in her own gaze, especially after her mother died. Seeing it in him had been hard. It also made the task before her even harder.

It was still hardest for him because he was Superman. There was supposed to be nothing he couldn't do. But to stop Tyr-El, he needed to fight as Kal-El and not Superman. It was an act of bravery befitting of any warriors, but Superman was no warrior. He was proving himself to be something far greater…at least in her eyes.

' _What are you doing, Kal? You've always set yourself apart from other men. At times, you rival the gods with your ideals. It's one of the many things I admire about you. But how far are you willing to take it? You may be Superman, but you're still a man – one I don't want to lose.'_

As soon as that thought entered her mind – the possibility that she could lose this man – Diana felt another twinge of emotion surge through her.

' _Losing you – no, I don't even want to think about that. You're Superman. You're Clark Kent. You're…my friend.'_

This time, her thoughts betrayed her emotions. She felt a lump in her throat and a tear in her eye. Then, her strong warrior demeanor faltered under these emotions.

"Just a friend? Is that _all_ I see in him?" she questioned out loud.

Saying it out loud made it sound more ridiculous. Even as those powerful emotions overwhelmed her, she smiled and shook her head to her own chagrin. It made no sense to ignore these emotions…or their implications.

"Mother, if you were here, you'd give me that look you know I hate," she said to her reflection. "You'd call me a child. You'd remind me how I have much to learn about the workings of my own heart. Those _reminders_ of yours frustrated me to no end. Now, I see why they're worth belaboring."

She could almost hear her mother laughing. Once again, her loving guidance was vindicated. The timing might be bittersweet, but it gave Diana even more incentive to see this through.

Now gripping the sword intently, Diana prepared to take her leave. She had to hurry if she was going to catch up with Superman before the next part of his plan went into action. Just as she began making her way to the balcony, the chamber door burst open and Philippus – a high-ranking Amazon general and long-time advisor of her mother – stormed in.

"Queen Diana, I saw you flying overhead. We have a situation!" she said in an urgent tone. "Your regal presence is needed this instant!"

"I'm in the midst of another crisis as we speak," said Diana, anxious to get back to Clark. "What is it? Can it wait?"

"No. It most certainly can't!" said Philippus, offended by the idea that she would ask. "One of our sisters has gone missing. Another has been…attacked."

"Attacked? By who?" asked Diana, now taking this more seriously.

"We don't know. She is alive, but she has been…ravaged. We believe a man has raped her! But she refuses to say who unless you are present!"

A very different set of emotions came over Diana. Another sick feeling in the pit of her stomach formed. There were few crimes more egregious than rape in the eyes of the Amazons. It was seen as the single greatest affront to her honor and her spirit. It was one of the few issues with which Diana shared her sisters' anger. However, she had a feeling that this crime and the arrival of Tyr-El was not a coincidence.

"Take me to her," said Diana without reservation. "I must know more. How could anyone even trespass on our lands without us knowing?"

"We're investigating that as we speak. I'm prepared to put the entire Amazon army on full alert at your command," said Philippus as she led her out of the chamber.

"Tell them to ready their weapons, but do not mobilize just yet. We must know more about this atrocity before we strike," said Diana, channeling her mother's tactics.

"That may take too much time. There is much we don't know," dreaded Philippus.

"Do we at least know the sisters in question?"

"Yes. Dessa is the victim of this heinous crime. We found her in the orchard – naked, defeated, and wounded. We have her in the healing chambers as we speak."

Diana clenched the Sword of Artemis even harder. She had no further doubts. She knew who was responsible and he just gave her even more reasons to help Kal kill him.

"What about the sister that is missing?" asked Diana, now sounding like both a queen and a warrior.

"We're still conducting a survey, but we believe it is Aleka that is missing. We've no trace of her whereabouts, but may the gods have mercy on the beast that dares touch her!"

* * *

 **Unknown Location – One Hour Ago**

"Hnn…kill you," said the weak and muted voice of Aleka.

"Save your breath, my maiden," said Tyr-El in an ominous, almost affectionate tone. "You're going to need it. You're about to midwife the greatest rebirth in all the galaxy!"

Aleka continued making angry, labored grunts towards him. It did nothing other than annoy him. She didn't know where she was, how she got there, or what exactly he had done to her. She didn't need to know either. She just had to accept that she made the mistake of trusting him and Tyr-El took advantage of it.

The powerful Amazon had been utterly subdued, contained within a special crystal that held her body in a semi-suspended state. She had also been stripped of all clothing, leaving her exposed in a way that added insult to injury. But the most painful part of her subdued state was the sight of her reflection in the crystal. Tyr-El made sure Aleka could see it so that she could appreciate the transformation she helped instigate.

"I know you're not afraid," he said to her through the crystal. "You're a warrior. You don't get afraid. You get _angry_!"

"Kill…you," said Aleka, her voice still mostly muted.

"Oh you'll do plenty of killing…and torturing…and raping, as well," said Tyr-El, "but you already knew that."

This time, the enraged Amazon didn't threaten him. In fact, he saw a slight tear form in her eye. Even in her crystal chamber, this was quite a feat. It revealed that she remembered what she did, how it happened, and what it meant for her. She just needed to accept it.

Tyr-El then stepped back, allowing her to get a better view of this labyrinth he set up. It was actually a deep cave complex that was inaccessible by any other form of life, but he used the data from Kal-El's so-called Fortress of Solitude to turn it into the proverbial womb for the rebirth of the Doomsday Legion. This meant filling the entire chamber with other crystal chambers identical to the one containing Aleka. These chambers hung from the ceiling, littered every wall, and covered the surrounding landscape like a huge crystal garden. Within these chambers, the distinct outline of a figure could be seen. Only Aleka had the faintest idea of the horror that these figures would bring.

In her reflection, she saw the seed had been sewn. Gone was the tall, auburn-haired female warrior that once drew such respect from her fellow Amazons. In her place, she saw a brutish, hulking figure with pale skin, dark hair, and spike-like scales along her arm and torso. Tyr-El saw her as beautiful. She saw herself as a monster. She could tolerate being a monster, but being under his control was what made it true torture. And like every act of torture the Doomsday Legion inflicted, there was a greater purpose to it.

"I know you're still inclined to dismember me where I stand, but think of it from a more _tactical_ perspective," said Tyr-El, "because in a way, we're both getting what we want."

Aleka's glare hardened, but the tear remained in her eye. Tyr-El just grinned. She still refused to see it, but that didn't make it less valid.

"You see, when I first arrived on Earth, I a few logistical concerns," he said to her. "In order to rebuild the Clan of El, I needed new soldiers. With most of my race dead, I needed to use Earth's inhabitance to recreate them – a messy, unpleasant process to say the least – but one that was absolutely necessary. But I couldn't just use any inhabitance. I needed _warriors_ , not brutes – not entirely anyways."

He lightly traced his hand down the front of the crystal chamber, passing over Aleka's face. Her disgust escalated, nullifying any further tears. It only affirmed Tyr-El's efforts.

"So imagine my surprise when I find out this world is home to an island of strong, female warriors – each endowed with great strength, stamina, and above all…bloodlust!" said Tyr-El admiringly. "I honestly couldn't have forged a more perfect base for my new Doomsday Legion if I tried."

After admiring her in the crystal chamber, Tyr-Rel turned his attention to the other chambers and admired the figures within.

"I read into your history when I infiltrated my grandson's fortress," he continued. "As I understand it, you Amazons are fierce yet honorable warriors – never hesitating to kill your enemy, but always going out of your way to love your sisters. That's an important balance – especially when this sisterhood is contingent on the proper application of bloodlust. It's not enough to bring it into battle. You must use it to _strengthen_ your society. It helps you remain segregated from all corrupting influences. It also allows you to murder the fathers of your own children and abandon the sons you bear for them. While some might see that as barbaric, I see that as _admirable_. You do what you must to keep your sisterhood pure. And that purity is part of its strength."

He turned back towards Aleka, who now seemed conflicted. He didn't get the sense she was bothered by the Amazons' traditions. He didn't see why his admiration of them would change that. More than anything else, these traditions provided context to his goals and that of the Amazons.

"Beyond the purity, you are able to channel that bloodlust that makes a warrior so deadly," said Tyr-El. "Most warriors will speak of honor, propriety, and whatever else makes them comfortable with killing. But true warriors like us – we _embrace_ that bloodlust because it fuels us! It drives us! It reveals to us what we must do to win the battle, the war, and everything in between! Most don't have the stomach for it. Many in my own family sure didn't. But you Amazons – you understand that bloodlust. Why else would you cling to your traditions so vehemently?"

This time, Aleka didn't react at all. She remained conflicted. Tyr-El could tell his words struck a chord. She might not like what he had to say, but she escape the substance behind his words.

"What I'm doing here will ensure the preservation of the Amazon legacy from here to the ends of the universe!" said Tyr-El boldly. "By taking the information from your DNA – a DNA that has been refined by generations of Amazons – I will create a new breed for the Doomsday Legion. Just imagine it – Kryptonian and Amazon warriors, laying waste to everyone who dares oppose us. The bloodlust that drove my kind and yours will torment, torture, and rape those who directly and indirectly oppose us. The order we'll create – the glory we'll achieve – it'll be so beautiful!"

The prospects of such glory excited Tyr-El in a way few things could. The bold vision he once laid out for the Clan of El was within his grasp once more. He let it slip away before. He would not let that happen again. Even if it meant the death of his distant grandson, he would ensure the glory of the Clan of El.

He still could feel Aleka's harsh gaze on him. In her eyes, he still saw conflict. She may still feel disgust for the blood he was willing to shed. She may even see merit to his methods. However, she still made clear that this was not how she wanted to preserve the Amazons' heritage. It didn't matter at this point though. She had already made her decision. She could either embrace the glory or be tormented by it.

Now caring little for her approval or lack thereof, Tyr-El prepared for the final step in this process. The figures in these crystal chambers were almost fully formed. However, they were composed of the most basic of genetic materials. Most of that material came from his own Kryptonian blood and the data provided by Kal-El. However, it remained incomplete. For the warriors of the Doomsday Legion to realize their potential, they needed one last component.

After making sure the figures in the chambers were ready, he retrieved a special tool that he had smuggled from Kal-El's fortress. It was a special crystalline drill, designed primarily for surgery on beings with exceedingly tough forms. After performing a minor calibration, he turned it on and approached Aleka's cell.

"I promise you, my maiden – you bear witness to this beauty. If you're as tough as you claim to be, you'll even participate," said Tyr-El. "I can't guarantee you'll like it. You may have _reservations_ about my methods, but you'll soon appreciate their effectiveness. First things first, though. Like any act of conception, there needs to be a _catalyst_ of sorts. The catalyst I require is buried within your eggs. And since I was unable to kill Kal-El, I do not have the time to utilize less invasive methods."

With the drill in hand, Tyr-El aligned the spinning tip with Aleka's lower abdomen. As soon as the tip penetrated the crystal, it made a high-pitched hissing noise that reverberated throughout the cave.

For a brief instant, he saw a look of horror in Aleka's eyes. True to her warrior spirit, this horror turned to rage – a seething, hateful rage that few would dare provoke. It was exactly the reaction he had hoped for. It would aid her and his new Doomsday Legion in the battle to come.

"Brace yourself and pray to whatever gods you once worshipped," he told her as the tip of the drill penetrated her abdomen, "because this is going to hurt…a lot."

* * *

 **Northern Kasnia – Present Time**

No matter how many times Superman visited war zones, he never got over the sickness he felt when he saw the brutality it inspired. It was one of those feelings that some became numb to. He went out of his way to make sure that never happened with him. Superman believed he _should_ be disgusted by such brutality. He _should_ be sickened by the carnage it caused. But in this one instance, he wished he could be numb to it.

He landed on the plains of northern Kasnia mere moments ago. Already, he felt that terrible sickness within him. This whole area reeked of death. The smell of burning flesh, charred landscapes, and wholesale slaughter hung thick in the air. It didn't help that he was not fully healed from the wounds Tyr-El inflicted earlier. However, this latest development forced him to step up the timetables of his plan. If the extent of the carnage here was any indication, he was already behind.

"You're late," said the stoic voice of Batman, "and wounded."

"You're ahead of the curve like always, Batman," said Superman in a similar tone. "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough to know we missed the worst of it, but not by much," he replied. "This outpost was a fortified stronghold for a small, but well-equipped anti-government militia. They had a reputation for harassing government facilities, disrupting trade routes, and ambushing military outposts. They rarely targeted civilians. A large number of civilians actually support their efforts and this atrocity will likely be blamed on the government."

"Except _they_ didn't do it," said Superman, not needing any detective skills to figure that out.

"You're right. They didn't. They couldn't have. Even on their worst days, this kind of brutality is not their style."

"But it _is_ Tyr-El's," said Superman.

Batman had already surveyed the carnage, conducting his usual detective work before anyone contaminated the scene. He had seen his share of brutality and carnage. He had an uncanny ability to confront it and not be overwhelmed by disgust. While he might not have superpowers, abilities like this certainly set him apart. And it was times like this where Superman envied those abilities.

" _He_ did this," said the Man of Steel grimly. "He did it to send a message – both to me and everyone on this world."

"Then we need to decipher that message before the Kasnian military shows up," said Batman, ever the pragmatist.

Superman didn't need additional motivation, but he used it anyways. With his X-ray and telescopic vision, he flew over the site and assessed the brutality. It was every bit as bad as the attack on the Spec Ops team in Nevada. Bodies lay strewn out over the charred ruins of what had once been a fortified stronghold. Rock, brick, and concrete had been shattered like glass or burned through heat vision and sheer force. There was nothing left of the structure except a large pit surrounded by charred land. However, it was the bodies that highlighted the worst of the carnage.

They had been purposefully arranged a certain way to ensure maximum visibility. Every one of them had been stripped of their clothing to display the extent of the torture they suffered. Eyes had been ripped out. Bones had been broken. In some cases, limbs were completely ripped off. Those unlucky enough to keep their limbs were mutilated to a horrific extent, their bodies broken and warped in ways that no human being could or should endure.

In addition, the smell of charred flesh indicated that heat vision had been used with surgical precision to rip out organs and perform delicate acts of torment, all while keeping the victim conscious. Superman saw bodies where ears, noses, hands, feet, and genitals were missing. But the one thing they all had in common was their face. When they died, their pained expression was frozen in place – acting as a warning to others of the brutality they faced.

Such tactics had been documented in the records Superman uncovered about Tyr-El. Seeing them up close, however, filled him with extra disgust. He did his best to hide this disgust, but he faltered. He closed his eyes and silently fumed, cursing Tyr-El and renewing his vow to end him.

"This has to end," he said under his breath. "Not one more, Tyr-El – not…one…more!"

"There's something else I noticed," said Batman, disrupting his train of thought before it could get too deep. "There were no women or children at this outpost. This militia has a strict policy of keeping distance between their weapons and their families."

"That way only _they_ would get killed if they got caught in the crossfire," surmised Superman.

"That's their policy, but it doesn't fit Tyr-El's," said Batman, still looking at this atrocity through the eye of a detective. "He prefers targets that provide opportunities for rape. Wholesale slaughter isn't enough for him. He needs to demonstrate the full range of his brutality. There are plenty of other targets where he could've had those opportunities. Some are less than 100 miles from here. That means he was _deliberate_ when he chose this compound."

"That, in and of itself, might be part of the message he's trying to send," said Superman.

"Most likely," said the Dark Knight, "but there's definitely more."

Having since learned not to question Batman's detective skills, Superman worked under the assumption that he was right. He was still processing the disgust, which hindered his ability to assess this carnage like Batman. However, as he began filtering out the stench of death, he did notice something that only his enhanced senses could've detected.

"You're right," said Superman definitively, "and I just found it."

Without explaining to Batman, Superman flew into what had once been the basement of the compound. The stench of blood and death grew thicker, challenging his ability to shut out his disgust. He managed to navigate the carnage, eventually finding a pile severed limbs and various body parts that had accumulated in a corner.

It was another testimony to Tyr-El's brutality. He made it a point to take the dismembered body parts and pile them up in this one specific area. There were already bugs swarming around this pile of bloody flesh, which was sure to start rotting soon. But for once, the horror was secondary.

"It's okay. You can come out now. I promise," said Superman.

As soon as he said these words, the pile of body parts moved. From within this monument to Tyr-El's latest atrocity, a single male figure emerged from what had to be the worst hell anyone could imagine.

"K-K-Kal-El?" said a weak, terrified voice.

"Yes. It's me," said Superman solemnly.

The figure then stood up, his body drenched and dripping with the blood of his fellow militiamen. Like the rest of his comrades, he had been stripped naked. He was shivering and trembling, his expression dazed by the unmitigated horror he just experienced and would likely scar him until his dying days.

It filled Superman with a fresh round of outrage. This kid couldn't have been older than 19-years-old. He was short, lanky, and poorly groomed – having messy dark hair and a beard that hadn't been shaved in months. He must have been new to this militia, being inexperienced and unhardened. That made him the perfect target for Tyr-El. It wasn't enough to just maim innocent people. He needed them to send a message in the most terrifying way possible.

"The D-D-Doomsday Legion…has b-b-been…reborn," said the man with a heavy accent. "Follow him…a-a-and watch…Krypton's l-l-legacy…rise."

"Follow him where?" asked Superman as he approached carefully. "Where can I find him? Where is Tyr-El?"

The man fell to his knees and sobbed, still surrounded in a pool of blood. He clutched his sides, groaning in agony. Now, he refused to look Superman in the eye.

"The Doomsday Legion has been reborn!" he cried, his words now clearer. "Follow him…and watch Krypton's legacy rise!"

"I heard you. Please…I can help," said Superman as he reached out to console him.

However, the man pulled back immediately and sobbed harder.

"The Doomsday Legion has been reborn!" he exclaimed again, his voice now straining with every word. "Follow him and watch…Krypton's…legacy…rise!"

The man finally broke down and cried. He cried harder than Superman had ever heard anyone cry before. This man had been completely and utterly broken. The extent of Tyr-El's torment truly knew no limit. It left the Man of Steel frozen, feeling powerless to help this man. This was likely another part of the message Tyr-El wanted to send.

As Superman stood over the crying man, Batman caught up with him. He approached carefully from behind. For a brief instant, even he cringed at the sight before him and Batman did not cringe easily. He still kept his composure better than Superman, able to assess this situation beyond the horror.

"He doesn't speak English," Batman pointed out. "Tyr-El just gave him words to repeat. That's why he let him live."

"Fits his tactics perfectly," said Superman, trying to contain his outrage.

"He singled him out for his youth," Batman surmised. "He made sure he watched as he tortured everyone else in the compound. He made him listen to every one of their screams. If he had any innocence before, it's long gone now."

"And yet it _still_ wasn't enough," said Superman, shaking his head in dismay. "After everyone was dead, he still got tortured. Half the bones in his hands are broken. All but two of his ribs are cracked. Nearly all his teeth have been ripped out and there's ligament damage in both his legs."

"But he didn't kill him. He didn't even paralyze him," added Batman. "He wanted him intact enough to send this message – to warn you…and to _goad_ you."

No detective skills were needed to decipher Tyr-El's intent. He made it clear what he wanted from Superman. He also made it abundantly clear how far he was willing to go. This was not someone Superman could reason with. This was not someone he could negotiate with. He couldn't be bought, bribed, or bullied. The only way to stop him was to kill him.

If Superman had any reservations about taking his distant grandfather's life before, they were long gone. He got the message loud and clear. However, there was one other detail that he had to account for.

"There's…one more complication," said Batman.

"Yeah, I already know what it is," said Superman flatly. "He said Doomsday _Legion_ – as in he had help this time."

"He would've had to," said Batman. "There were at least 600 men stationed at this compound. Even with your power, he couldn't have subdued every one of them this quickly – not if he wanted to maximize the torture."

"From here on out, let's just assume Tyr-El likes to top himself when it comes to torture."

"It also begs the question – where did he get this legion? What are its capabilities? And what does he intend to do with it?"

"The first two questions don't matter. It's the third one that's most pressing," said Superman. "Unfortunately, I already know most of the answer…although I wish to God I didn't."

The time for being disgusted had passed. This plan he crafted with Wonder Woman couldn't unfold fast enough. Tyr-El just added another challenge. If he did have an army at his side, he would be even harder to stop. That still didn't change the scope of his plan. It just meant the stakes were higher, along with the potential for bloodshed.

Already hardened to the task before him, Superman knelt down to the bloodied young man before him. He was still crying his eyes out, tears mixing with the blood on his face. He was in so much pain – his body and spirit so broken by the torment. Superman could offer only the most careful of gestures and the strongest of vows.

"I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve this. No one deserves this…on this planet or any other," said Superman. "I promise that you'll be the last of Tyr-El's victims. Before this day is done, I'm going stop him. His legacy – _my_ legacy – everything he's trying to rebuild – I'm going to end it!"

The man looked up briefly with his tear-filled eyes. He clearly didn't understand Superman's words, but he understood the sentiment. He responded with a light nod before he buried his face in his hands again, his anguish once again overwhelming him.

Superman cast him one last look of sorrow before rising back to his feet. With a determination that would shatter kryptonite, he turned around and faced Batman.

"I know that look," said Batman. "Before you fly off, someone should tell you you're making a mistake."

"I'm not going to do what you think this time. For once, I _can't_ do what Superman would do," said Superman, the determination abundantly clear in his voice. "Tyr-El wants me to chase him. He's going to keep committing more atrocities – each more egregious than the last. He wants to frustrate me – taunt me – make me play right into his hands."

"And if you do what he wants, he's going to win," said Batman.

"Which is why I'm _not_ going to play his game," said Superman strongly. "He's a tactician. He'll do anything to gain an edge on his current enemies _and_ his future enemies. _I_ have to use that against him. _I_ need to be the one to set the terms of this fight."

"That's tactically sound, but how do you expect this fight to play out? If Tyr-El has bloodlust _and_ an army. What do you hope to do against that?"

There was that critical undertone in his voice again. Superman knew it well. He and Batman disagreed on a great many issues. Tactics tended to be a recurring theme. This time, however, he sensed his friend and teammate had another concern.

The promise he made to Tyr-El's last victim already confirmed it. Superman was going to kill. Aside from Batman's long-standing aversion to killing, he saw flaws in the Man of Steel's intentions.

"We're _not_ having this debate, Batman – not this time," said Superman sternly.

"I didn't intend to," replied the Dark Knight. "If you think killing Tyr-El is the only way to stop atrocities like this, then I'm not going to dissuade you. But I'm still going to warn you."

"About what?" said Superman dryly. "About being no better than him? About having to _better_? Honestly, do you really think that applies here?"

"No," said Batman, "but the fact remains – he's better at killing than you. And you're no killer. You're _Superman_."

He emphasized that name more than usual, reminding Superman of the principles he stood for and the ideals he embodied. It was worth reinforcing. This was a fight unlike anything Superman had ever encountered before. He always used his vast powers to avoid such a fight. However, he could not avoid this one.

For a brief moment, he looked down at the symbol on his chest – the seal from the House of El. He used to wear this symbol with such pride. It embodied the hope that his family sent with him when they saved his life. This symbol now carried a different meaning. In light of such atrocity and brutality, hope just wasn't enough.

"Standing up to Lex Luthor and exposing corruption – _that's_ a job for Superman. Fighting Darkseid and fending off an invasion from Apokalipse – _that's_ a job for Superman too," said the Man of Steel. "Fighting for truth, justice, and the American way is and always will be a job for Superman. That's exactly why _this_ isn't one of them."

"Then how are you going to fight him?" asked Batman.

"The only way I can salvage what little is left of my family's legacy – as Kal-El," he replied.

Leaving Batman to tend to the wounded man and coordinate with the Kasnian authorities, Superman took off into the sky at supersonic speeds. Tyr-El already had more atrocities planned. He was sure of it. He wasn't going to let it happen again. All the bloodshed – all the atrocities committed under his family's banner – it was going to end. He would make sure of it.

* * *

 **Themyscira – Temple of Asclepius**

"Dessa…my dear sister," said Diana in a solemn yet determined tone, "I swear by the blood of Ares that this atrocity will be avenged!"

Diana bowed her head in sorrow at the sight of her wounded sister. It was a sight that struck every Amazon to her core. It hit at the very heart of Amazon sisterhood, a concept that transcended the world of man and gods alike. It didn't matter if an Amazon was queen or a stable maiden. When someone attacked a sister, they all felt it in their hearts and souls. Being queen now, Diana felt it more than most.

She arrived at the Temple of Ascelpius with Philippus under heavy guard and high alert. Word quickly spread about Dessa's rape. All over the island, Amazons dropped what they were doing and prepared for battle. Whatever or whoever dared to attack a sister in such a vile manner would be subject to the full might of the Amazon army. Diana intended to use every ounce of that might if necessary. However, she couldn't forget about the other mission she had at hand, nor could she forget the strange timing of such a crime.

Having asked for privacy from the royal guard, Diana stood with Philippus in the intensive care chamber, as they called it. This chamber was reserved only for those who had suffered the worst injuries during the course of battle. It contained a special bed surrounded by enchanted runes, each blessed by the God Ascelpius himself. These runes radiated a pinkish orange energy that facilitated healing.

Lying as still as a statue under the light of these healing runes, Dessa's naked body remained wrapped in soft linens – each blessed by Hera to preserve and protect a wounded Amazon. However, a large scar on her face remained visible. For reasons the mages couldn't explain, this scar remained. Diana, mourning her sister's suffering, lightly caressed her face in hopes of alleviating her pain. While this energy had already healed the physical wounds that Dessa endured, the internal wounds remained a concern.

"Our healing mages don't know when she'll wake up," said Philippus, already anxious to go to war with the perpetrator of this crime. "They tell me she is physically healed. There's no reason she should still be in this state."

"That's because she _isn't_ healed," said Diana as she stood by Dessa's bedside. "The wounds she suffered are beyond the physical."

"Then we must be just as merciless when we find the one responsible!" she said. "So why are we not attacking?"

"Because we don't know who to attack," replied Diana. "Our scouts have already surveyed the orchards. Whoever did this has long since left our shores."

"Then we'll storm man's world, demand answers, and slay all those who stand in our way!"

"That would be foolish and every bit as unjust. We don't even know if someone from man's world is responsible."

"Your time away from your home has clouded your judgment, my _queen_!" said Philippus apprehensively. "Who else but man would commit such a heinous crime? For all we know, those _brothers_ of ours are behind this! I don't care if Haephestus himself protects them! They must be held responsible for this act!"

Diana's sorrow turned to conflict. She looked over towards Philippus and then back at the wounded Dessa. This was exactly what she dreaded. With just one act, the Amazons would rally against their abandoned brothers. Any chance of peace and cohabitation would be lost. And as queen, she would be expected to lead the charge.

She didn't dare entertain such a thought, but her sisters demanded a response. They needed to know who did this. For the honor of the Amazons, they had to make them pay. They would fight a war with man's world until the end of time to right this wrong. It was in their nature. It put Diana in the most difficult of positions at a time when she had enough burdens to bear.

As Diana dreaded her next actions, she heard a weak gasp from Dessa.

"Hnn…stop," she said in a low, raspy voice.

This immediately drew Diana's attention, as well as Philippus.

"She's awakening!" said Philippus.

"Shh! Lower your voice!" said Diana in a hushed tone. "Let's not startle her."

Philippus stayed behind Diana, ready to draw her sword the moment she had a reason to. Diana knelt by her sister's bedside and lightly grasped her hand. She could feel her stirring, but returning to consciousness proved painful.

When she opened her eyes, she revealed the extent of her torment. Only one eye opened fully, the other one being kept shut due to heavy swelling. At first she didn't seem to notice Diana, Philippus, or anyone for that matter. She was still living in that horrible moment when she was attacked – a moment that had yet to completely end.

"Dessa…I'm here for you, my sister," said Diana in a caring, compassionate tone.

"Diana…" replied Dessa, still dazed and distant.

"I realize something has happened to you – something _horrible_. Know that I and your sisters are by your side, ready to aid you."

Her gaze remained distant, but the wounded Amazon managed to turn her head to face Diana. She saw in her not just pain, but shock. What happened to her wasn't just horrific. It was unexpected. It led her to shift, which added to her discomfort.

"Diana…my queen," she said, her every word strained. "Our sisters…must hurry."

"Please be still, Dessa," urged Diana. "You are still gravely injured."

Diana squeezed her hand a little harder, helping to alleviate her suffering and discourage her from agitating her state. It calmed her somewhat at first. However, Philippus remained impatient and tried to shove Diana out of the way.

"Enough coddling, Diana!" she barked. "We must know who did this to her! Tell us, Dessa! Who dared ravage and Amazon?"

"Philippus, stand down!" ordered Diana, forcing her to step away from Dessa's bed. "That's an order from your _queen_!"

"Ha! Some order!" scoffed Philippus. "What queen merely consoles a sister after she's been ravaged? If your mother were still here, she'd have mobilized the army by now!"

"Don't you _dare_ speak for my mother or claim to know her tactics! She would never ignore a sister's suffering! Not for an instant!"

"But she would not hesitate to seek a man who _ravaged_ her sisters! You, on the other hand, seem _eager_ to hesitate! Are you that really that tepid, Diana? Have you come to value man's world above ours? Even after a man has raped your sister?"

Her words were harsh and enraged. They reflected the sentiment of every Amazon on this island. A man had raped one sister and abducted another. That was all they needed to know. That was all the justification they needed to wage war on man's world.

It left Diana in a difficult position at a time when she had neither the time nor capacity to deal with such issues. Clenching her fists, she was now at a loss. She couldn't quell her sisters' outrage. She couldn't let overlook this crime either. No matter what she did, it was only going to make a volatile situation even worse.

Then, as Philippus stood ready to kick her off the throne, Dessa let out another pained gasp.

"No! My sisters…you must stop," she said, this time with more urgency in her tone.

"Dessa…" began Diana, turning away from Philippus for a moment.

"Be still, dear sister," said Philippus, cutting her off. "Do not listen to this pitiful excuse for a queen. Tell me about the man who did this to you and I will find him! I will unleash the wrath of Hades on every corner of this world if I have to!"

"You…you can't," said Dessa.

"What? Why not?" said Philippus, confused by her sister's remark.

"Because a man…did not do this to me," she said. "A man…only instigated the crime. Someone else…carried it out."

Philippus' outrage gave way to curiosity. This situation was clearly more complicated than she realized. Diana turned her attention back to her wounded sister. Such complications might be critical to confronting this crime.

"Then who did, my sister? Tell me!" said Diana.

Dessa paused for a moment. Tears formed in her eyes as her pain morphed into sorrow. As her daze faded and a harsh reality set in, she struggled to answer. Diana, understanding the value of comfort more than Philippus, took her sister's hand and gave Dessa the strength she needed to reveal the truth.

"Aleka. It was…Aleka. _She_ did this to me," Dessa cried.

This shocked Diana and Philippus, but it definitely struck Philippus harder.

"Aleka? But…that's not possible!" said Philippus in disbelief. "She's one of the strongest, proudest warriors on Themyscira! She would never…"

"She did!" said Dessa through more tears. "A man…did something to her. I…don't know what it was. But when he did…her skin turned white as snow…just like his. She was…in pain. I tried…to help her…but I could not. And shortly after this change…"

Her words devolved into pained groans as she relieved the horror she endured. She shifted and tensed on the bed, causing even more discomfort. It was as though she was still fighting to stop this atrocity. Being an Amazon, she wanted to get up and fight, even when it pained her to do so.

Both Diana and Philippus had to coordinate to restrain her. The heated argument they had mere moments ago was already forgotten. As they struggled to hold her down, the two Amazons exchanged glances. Philippus did not speak at first. In her gaze, Diana saw a begrudging admission that she had been wrong. She was too eager to wage war on man's world. This revelation about a sister being corrupted changed things. Now, the Amazons had a very different battle on their hands.

"We'll need the mages to put her in a healing sleep," said Diana. "She's too injured. She cannot and should not fight in the battle to come."

"Agreed, my queen," said Philippus, her tone alone acting as an apology for her earlier behavior. "What of Aleka? Or this man she says corrupted her? I take it he'll be the focus of our battle."

Diana's vision narrowed. The resolve of a queen and an Amazon once again consumed her. The mention of the man's white skin confirmed what she already suspected. Before her eyes, she saw Tyr-El's pale complexion. It had to be him. Between his recent arrival and the extent of this latest atrocity, it could only be him.

Now filled her with more rage than ever, Diana expunged any remaining reservations. What Superman had asked of her had been daunting. It might end up being easier now. Tyr-El dared to corrupt the Amazons with his atrocities. She would make sure he regretted that choice.

"I already know the man we seek," said Diana strongly, "and I already know how we're going to confront him. It involves mobilizing a squad of our most elite warriors."

"Consider it done, my queen," said Philippus respectfully. "Where will they be fighting this battle?"

"I'll reveal those details soon enough," she assured her. "First, I must pay a visit to Olympus. I need to speak with the God of the Sun."

* * *

 **Lexcorp Military Hospital**

"You there, make sure the hardware upgrades I ordered are in place and running at 100 percent in the next five minutes! You, recalibrate the resonant energy matrix to my specifications within two minutes after that! And you, upload my calculations into the quantum processing core! I know I'm paying for this, but trust me. Your paychecks should be the least of your worries right now."

Lex Luthor had been barking out orders like this since General Lane left the facility. It took him longer than he would've preferred, but that didn't matter. He just needed him out of the way so that he had no more obstacles or red tape to sift through. From here on out, it was his genius verses an alien menace.

As he gave these orders, every technician, mechanic, and contract laborer worked feverishly on preparing his revised Warsuit for battle. They worked as though their lives depended on it because they most certainly did. This time, however, it wasn't because Lex Luthor had such a low tolerance for failure. For once, they understood the magnitude of this threat. They understood that only someone as brilliant as Lex Luthor could save them. They didn't need to be whipped, threatened, or motivated this time. They all had an important stake in the success of this bold plan.

The most important component of that plan, however, remained in Lex's grasp. As the workers did the necessary modifications to his Warsuit, he conducted his own preparations on the crystal that had put him on the path to ultimate triumph. It allowed him to hack the Fortress of Solitude, which had been a challenge testing even Lex's vast genius. Now, he needed this crystal to do something so much more.

"The destruction of one legacy will provide the foundation for another," he mused as he gazed upon the glowing crystal. "The ashes of Superman's legacy will be the foundation of my own. Even I couldn't have conjured a more fitting outcome."

Lex grinned at his reflection in the crystal, which was still glowing with a dim, yet unstable radiance. He had it contained in the same apparatus he assembled in his lab earlier. Since work began on his Warsuit, he had been reconfiguring and reprogramming its function for a very specific use. Being a poor substitute to a true Kryptonian data crystal, this function was limited. It barely held together in hacking Superman's fortress. But with the proper application of Lex Luthor's genius, it would end the alien threat to humanity once and for all.

"Mr. Luthor, we're running the final round of diagnostics," announced one of the female technicians. "It'll be ready within the hour."

"You have 20 minutes. No more," said Lex. "This alien menace can inflict a _lot_ of carnage within an hour. Let's _not_ be the reason he succeeds."

It was an unreasonable request and hardly the first Lex had made of his staff. However, the woman offered no protests. She didn't waste a breath before getting back to work, aiding the rest of her co-workers in finalizing the Warsuit's modifications.

As Lex finalized the crystal's configurations, he retrieved the other key component. This one probably gave General Lane more reservations than most of Lex's unreasonable requests. It was the large hunk of refined kryptonite that acted as the Warsuits main power source. He imagined the United States Military's best minds had attempted to reverse engineer it. He could tell by how the power cell surrounding it had been damaged. The fact the military hadn't switched to kryptonite-powered fighter jets already was proof that the military's best minds were no match for Lex Luthor's.

"Turn every weakness into a strength," mused Lex. "Use knowledge to make every strength even _stronger_."

This ruthless strategy that helped make him a billionaire would now help him end Superman once and for all. After retrieving a special tool from a nearby container, he unlocked the containment field that protected the kryptonite. He then used a pair of tongs to retrieve the glowing green rock. Since it was refined, the glow was brighter than normal kryptonite. It was also much harder too, making this next step quite tricky.

"You there," he said, pointing to an engineer, "hand me that laser drill."

Knowing better than to hesitate after Lex Luthor gave an order, the male engineer complied and gave him the drill. Once in hand, Lex used the drill to carefully cut off a small sliver of the kryptonite. He had to be exceedingly careful. Kryptonite this refined was extremely unstable and capable of erratic energy fluctuations. One wrong move and he would lose his Warsuit's power source and probably kill everyone in this lab within a fraction of a second. Lex Luthor did not make such moves when the human race needed his genius.

With steady hands and the utmost focus, Lex removed a sliver no larger than a tooth pick. The rock gave of a few erratic sparks that caused the table to shake. Some of the workers looked on anxiously, but didn't dare distract him. They kept working once he retrieved the sliver. As soon as he had it in hand, he carefully placed it in a containment field near the crystal. He then put the refined kryptonite back into the power cell for use in his Warsuit.

"With knowledge and strength comes cunning," said Lex as he grinned at his handiwork. "With cunning, you _always_ have the advantage."

It was a monumental moment that few could appreciate, but they would in due time. Until today, Superman always had the advantage. He was stronger, faster, and smarter than anyone and anything on this planet. With these advantages, he forged his web of lies. He conveyed himself as this otherworldly savior who was here to save the human race. Take away those advantages and his lies would collapse, but they would not defeat him – not entirely.

For Superman's ultimate defeat, Lex needed an advantage. He finally had it in his possession. More importantly, he had the resources and opportunities to make use of it. With the Warsuit's power cell re-assembled, he carefully set it aside. He then turned his attention back to the crystal, which was still glowing steadily.

' _I hacked your fortress. I exposed your lies. I turned the people you corrupted against you. I humiliated you in the eyes of the public. They now fear you more than they ever feared Lex Luthor. But I know you too well. You're not going to stop. No amount of indignity will prevent you from corrupting this planet with your influence.'_

With time running out and destiny fast approaching, Lex carefully placed the crystal within the containment field that held the kryptonite sliver. The field immediately became distorted by the presence of the crystal, causing some erratic flickering within both. Lex made a few adjustments to the containment field in order to stabilize it. The next few moments were tense, but it eventually settled.

"Activating harmonic radiation transference," he said with bated breath.

He then flipped a few switches and loaded a series of programs that he coded himself, triggering a shift in the containment field that manipulated forces that weaker minds couldn't hope to understand. It went largely unnoticed by the surrounding workers, who wisely remained focused on the task before them. Some of the equipment around the containment field made ominous noises, causing some of the surrounding lights to flicker. But just as Lex calculated, the process was completed.

It unfolded in a burst of light that sent sparks surging through the containment field. The greenish light from the purified kryptonite flowed into the crystal, as though forced in by the brute strength of advanced quantum physics. This brute strength caused the crystal to shutter and vibrate at a level that would've shattered most rocks. This one, having been crafted by Lex Luthor's skilled hands, remained intact.

It was over within mere seconds. The final product was a crystal that glowed with the same radiance as purified kryptonite, but with a distinct hue. This was not just some shiny rock that happened to make Kryptonian's weak. It was now so much more.

"It's done," said Lex with an ominous grin. "Your time is almost up Superman, but Lex Luthor's is just beginning!"

The final component was now complete. With both the power cell and the crystal in hand, Lex removed his lab coat and turned his attention back to the Warsuit. By now, his workers had made enough progress to begin the next step.

"Tell me it's ready and don't you dare hesitate," Lex said to one of his technicians.

"It's ready," said the technician. "The diagnostics are still running, but the interface is good to go."

"Then let's load up!" said Lex eagerly.

As soon as he said these words, the technician signaled one of the workers manning the control console. He entered a series of commands, which caused the front part of the Warsuit to open, making room for the one occupant fit to wield it.

Lex gave no further commands as he removed his dress shirt and approached the small ladder leading into the suit. Every worker got out of his way, clearing a path for him to enter. As soon as he climbed into the suit, it recognized its primary wielder. The gears and mechanisms that made it one of his best creations went to work, adjusting and molding the suit to Lex's body. Within seconds, he was secured and ready for the final countdown.

"It's time," Luthor announced to his staff. "Install the power cell and the crystal. Afterwards, initiate the automated launch sequence and leave – all of you. Return to your homes, embrace your families, and wait for the battle to end. Rest assured, it will end soon."

It came off as an act of compassion, allowing his loyal Lexcorp employees to seek safety before the final battle began. It was more a matter of logistics. Lex didn't need lesser minds fumbling about his Warsuit, potentially hindering or even sabotaging his triumph. Whatever his reasons, his workers didn't care. As soon as one of them activated the launch sequence, they cleared out of the lab as quickly as their legs would carry them.

"Never thought I'd see the day where Lex Luthor is our best hope," said one of the engineers.

"You don't trust _him_ to stop that monster more than Superman?" said a female technician.

"I trust Mr. Luthor will do what needs to be done – way more than Superman, that's for sure."

They probably thought Lex hadn't heard them, but he did. Under different circumstances, he might have reprimanded them for having a sliver of doubt that he could best Superman. But if everything went accordingly, he wouldn't have to reprimand anybody anymore because there would be no doubt. Lex Luthor's superiority would undeniable now and for generations to come.

As soon as the last worker cleared out, a series of robot arms took over. They completed the task of disconnecting the cables and loading the necessary programs to integrate him into his Warsuit. While these programs loaded, two specialized robot arms retrieved the kryptonite power cell and the data crystal. Following the programs that Lex himself crafted, they installed each component into the suit, causing it to power up.

Within seconds, he felt a surge of strength befitting that of a superior mind. He then made a fist with this newfound power, ready to take on Superman, Tyr-El, and any alien threat that dared to corrupt the human race.

' _It was always going to come to this, Superman – if not because of Tyr-El, then for an equally dire reason. Your deceit must end. The only way to stop you once and for all is to kill you. No one else has the strength, the will, or the resources to do it. I, Lex Luthor, must become humanity's greatest hero!'_

* * *

 **Metropolis**

" _Attention all Metropolis residents. This is an emergency broadcast. By order of the mayor and governor, you are to evacuate downtown Metropolis immediately. I repeat. Evacuate downtown Metropolis immediately."_

This order blared through every TV channel, radio station, and loudspeaker in Metropolis. It had been issued less than a half-hour ago and just in time for rush hour no less. Already, every major roadway going out of the city was clogged with vehicles and pedestrians. The residents of Metropolis had been through this before with both Darkseid and Brainiac. They knew to take this order seriously, but there was something different about this latest crisis. Beyond the fear of another alien threat, there was this sense of terror that went beyond fear.

"Need to get out of here! I…I need to get my daughters away from that _monster_!"

"He's going to kill us…torture us…rape us! Superman can't stop him. He won't! He's his grandfather!"

"I don't care how much good he's done. If Superman invites danger like _this_ , I'd rather he leave and never come back!"

This sort of sentiment was uncomfortably common. Superman heard it in many forms as he flew over the Metropolis skyline, using his enhanced senses to oversee the evacuation. He had been the one to instigate it, cashing in a few favors with the mayor and governor. He needed to get as many innocent people out of the crossfire as possible. For this plan of his to work, he couldn't give Tyr-El a greater advantage than he already had.

Hearing all these terrified musings hit Superman as hard as any punch from Darkseid. Beyond the fear of these innocent people who wanted nothing to do with this conflict, they indirectly vindicated some of Tyr-El's brutal practices. He committed these atrocities so that no one had the stomach to fight him. By now, most Metropolis residents were familiar with these atrocities. Whatever hope and admiration Superman had inspired before was overshadowed by the dread that Tyr-El had fostered.

But as Superman flew lower over the city skyline, he heard a different sentiment from a select few voices. These voices were often drowned out by the dread, but they were definitely there.

"Save us, Superman! I know you can. I still believe in you."

"I don't care what anyone else says. I know you'll do the right thing, Superman. I know you'll protect us."

"I'm not afraid, Superman. I won't be! You taught us to endure – to fight – to hope. I won't forget that because of this."

For the first time since this day began, Superman smiled. It was a sign that Tyr-El's terror tactics hadn't been completely vindicated. He might be able to evoke dread in the short-term, but he had yet to prove that he could undermine the hope Superman had inspired in humanity. His legacy might be tainted now, but Superman had no intention of letting that hope die today.

He did one final survey of downtown Metropolis with his enhanced vision. Once he confirmed it had been evacuated, he flew down to his destination and landed. Fittingly enough, this conflict would end where it began – at the Metropolis Metropolitan Museum.

Earlier today, this had been the site of what Superman hoped to be a historic moment. It ended up being plenty historic, but for all the wrong reasons. The first open exchange between Earth and Krypton was supposed to encourage peace and understanding. Instead, Tyr-El's presence had inspired outrage and fear.

"MONSTERS!"

"ALIENS GO HOME!"

"NOT SO SUPER!"

"LEAVE US ALONE!"

"EARTH FOR HUMANS!"

These were just some of the vial words that had been spray-painted on the outer walls of the museum. It was a far cry from the open, peaceful, upbeat spirit which he had seen earlier when he opened the doors to the Krypton exhibit. At some point between that jubilant moment and now, there had been a riot here.

Beyond the xenophobic graffiti, windows and glass doors had been broken. Trash had been strewn all over the entryway. Lines upon lines of police tape now covered every entrance. It must have been a tense moment. He hadn't been here to stop it, but that might have been a good thing.

Ignoring the graffiti and mess, Superman flew through the police tape and into the empty museum. It was darkened for the most part, except for a few emergency lights. The mess on the inside was almost as bad as the mess on the outside. More graffiti, trash, and police tape lined the exhibits to which Superman so proudly attached his name. Large posters and emblems bearing his symbol had been torn down and desecrated. It reflected the dramatic shift in sentiment that Tyr-El had triggered.

As Superman gazed at these desecrated displays, he imagined what the people inside must have experienced. One second, mothers are showing their children the beautiful architecture of Kryptonian buildings. The next, angry riots outraged by news reports about Tyr-El storm the museum – looking to vent their outrage on the closest Kryptonian source.

"So this is where Superman's reputation now stands," said the Man of Steel distantly. "Don't know if this was part of your plan, Tyr-El, but it worked. You're making me fight more than just another Kryptonian. You're forcing me work around the very people I'm trying to protect – the people that now hate and fear us."

From a purely tactical standpoint, it was brilliant. Batman warned him about this. Tyr-El wasn't just a powerful brute. He was as cunning as he was brutal. That made him a dangerous enemy to face. Superman refused to share his brutality, but he was willing to be just as cunning.

"Congratulations for making my life difficult," said Superman, "but that's the last thing you'll succeed at today. I'll make sure of it."

Stepping over the desecrated posters and symbols, Superman made his way towards the central area where the Kryptonian exhibit still stood. This exhibit was also surrounded in police tape, but it was still intact. These items survived the destruction of a planet. They could definitely survive a riot.

After cutting through the police tape with his heat vision, he placed his hand on one of the crystals that made up the display. His touch, as well as his Kryptonian DNA, activated the crystal in a way that no typical museum visitor could. It was one of the fail-safes he installed in case someone tried to corrupt these exhibits. It didn't stop Lex Luthor from using them to hack the Fortress of Solitude, but these fail-safes had other uses that would help him stop Tyr-El.

Within moments, other crystals nearby activated as well. Soon, every crystal in the exhibit lit up, bathing the museum in a steady glow of yellowish light. Along with this light came a voice.

" _Welcome, Kal-El, to the Metropolis Museum Kryptonian exhibit,"_ said a robotic voice. _"What display would you like to review?"_

"Override primary programming. Authorization – Rao-Zeta," said Superman flatly.

" _Primary display program overridden. Secondary protocols engaged,"_ replied the voice. _"Warning. Activation of these protocols may trigger instability in the quantum data matrix. Recommend tertiary safeguards."_

"Ignore warning," said Superman. "Activate Protocol Doomsday. Redirect power from every crystal into the main hub."

" _Warning. Redirecting power at this level may trigger critical overload."_

"I know. I'm counting on it."

The crystals did their job. The AI he had programmed into it offered no further warnings. They wouldn't have changed his mind anyways.

The air throughout the museum grew hot and tense as the energy from every crystal in the exhibit escalated. The large crystal in the center of the exhibit grew the brightest, so much so that it started pulsating erratically. With his enhanced vision, Superman could see it becoming more unstable. That's exactly what he wanted. Now came the second hardest part of this plan – the first being the one that involved Diana.

"I'm ready for you, Tyr-El," said Superman as he cracked his knuckles in anticipation. "You've shown me your brutal methods. Now, it's time to show you mine!"

* * *

 **Up next: Divine Conventions**


	6. Divine Conventions

**Broken Legacy  
Chapter 6: Divine Conventions**

* * *

 **Sub-Orbital Space**

' _Such a ripe and fertile world,'_ mused Tyr-El as he admired the view before him. _'These primates are primed for conquest and poised for greatness…if they're willing to pay the price.'_

The old Kryptonian had seen, conquered, and destroyed many worlds in his time. Most of those worlds were afterthoughts – mere stepping stones in Krypton's march towards conquest. Not every being was worthy of living under Kryptonian dominance. Even fewer were worthy of aiding Krypton in its pursuit of glory. This planet his descendants sent Kal-El to was unremarkable in so many ways, yet unique in the ways that mattered.

For the past hour or so, Tyr-El had been hovering in sub-orbital space. He wasn't just admiring the view either. Like any good warrior from the Clan of El, he planned his next attack. His newly-reborn Doomsday Legion had proven itself in its first test run. Based on what he observed, these humans that thought themselves so dominant stood little chance of fighting back. They were weak and frail. Their weapons were primitive and crude. Every one of them – no matter who they were or where they lived – was at his mercy.

' _This won't be the easiest conquest I've ever led, but it'll be close. These primates showed they don't have the stomach for war with the Clan of El. I only killed a handful of their men and raped only two of their women. And that terrifies them so much that they are willing to turn on those that would protect them? It's pathetic, but predictable.'_

This was exactly the position the Clan of El preferred during a conquest. First, they give the enemy a taste of his tactics. Then, they let them scramble in terror, dreading the atrocities that their parents, children, and siblings will suffer at the hands of his army. If they didn't destroy themselves, then Tyr-El would finish the job for them. Either they surrendered or his armies would maim, rape, and pillage to the utmost – hoping that the next world they encountered would be smarter.

There was just one remaining complication. Tyr-El had his army and a world on which he could rebuild the Clan of El's glory. However, his success and his legacy depended on his ability to circumvent the one person capable of stopping him.

"Kal-El," he said out loud into the cold vacuum of space, "I don't expect you to share in the Clan of El's glory. Like your father and grandfather before you, you don't have the stomach for our methods. You're going to oppose me. You may even _frustrate_ me. I cannot have that. Either you will die by my hand or you will die by the hands of these ignorant humans. Either way, your death is necessary."

It was tragic, but unavoidable. Tyr-El hadn't forgotten how his own family turned on him all those centuries ago. They knew that Krypton was on the brink of becoming the greatest empire the galaxy had ever known. They just couldn't stomach the cost of such glory – so much so that his glory had been censored and suppressed. Kal-El and the family had all the resources in the universe to expunge his presence from memory and they still failed. It convinced Tyr-El that the Clan of El's glory wasn't just unstoppable. It was destiny.

' _How is this going to play out, Kal-El? How many of these humans must I maim? How many women must I ravage? At some point, you won't be able to stomach my attacks. Now that my Doomsday Legion has been reborn, those attacks will only escalate. I will not allow you to bide your time. You will either confront me or let more innocents suffer. Just know that I am willing to spill as much blood as I have to…and then some.'_

With every second Kal-El hid, he condemned more innocents to his wrath. Thanks to his enhanced vision and perfect view of this vulnerable world, Tyr-El had already identified dozens of potential targets for his army.

There was a small village in India full of farmers and day-laborers, none of which had any weapon greater than a hammer. There was a suburban town in China devoid of competent police located far from any military force that would protect them. There was an isolated community in the American Midwest full of simple people who had never known conflict greater than land dispute. He and his legion could drop in on any of these areas in under a minute, subdue every human being in sight, and torture them with the utmost brutality. The fear and horror would grow. The dread would be inescapable. Only Kal-El could stop it. He had to be removed from the question.

' _You've no excuse, Kal-El. I know you can find me. We're going to end this on my terms. I've given you too much time already. I'm going to randomly pick another population of humans. I'm going to torture them – rape them – kill them. And you will have to either let it happen or face me!'_

Tyr-El prepared to make his move. It didn't matter where he attacked. It only mattered that both Kal-El and these humans knew his brutality. But before he could target a population center, he felt a strange burning sensation under his skin.

"Aagh!" he exclaimed. "What in Rao…"

The old Kryptonian clenched his fists and looked down at his hands. It felt like his blood had been ignited with the heat of a star for a brief second. That sort of discomfort shouldn't have been possible. He made sure it wasn't possible when he absorbed the energy of this system's star to give him power on the level of Kal-El. Only so many forces were capable of inflicting such discomfort at this point.

As the veins in his arms bulged and the sting lingered, Tyr-El realized what forces were involved and who was behind them. It was enough to make him scowl at his own flesh. For the first time, his ability to rebuild the Clan of El's glory _wasn't_ absolute.

"Kal-El – you cunning son of an El!" said Tyr-El with a mix of anger and admiration. "Congratulations. You've crossed your first line. You initiated the House of El's forbidden subversion protocols. If you think this will…"

Before he could complete his thought, he was struck with another painful surge. This one was even worse than before, causing him so clench his sides in agony.

"Ahhh!" Tyr-El cried out.

As he groaned and seethed in discomfort, his gaze narrowed on the planet before him. He specifically set his sights on Metropolis. This had to be the source of this pain. Like a compass, every cell in his body pointed towards it. It forced Tyr-El to make another distressing revelation.

"You're goading me. _You_ want to set the terms of our final confrontation. _You_ think that'll give you an advantage," he said, as though Kal-El were hovering right in front of him.

Kal-El must have heard him because he felt a third wave of pain shoot through his body. This time, Tyr-El didn't give his distant grandson the satisfaction of crying out in pain. He endured it, despite feeling as though he had molten metal in his veins. However, it also confirmed that Kal-El was just as willing to endure.

' _This is hurting you as much as it's hurting me, but you're willing to take the pain. You're willing to hurt us both until I give in. From a purely tactical standpoint, I shouldn't. Any advantage I give you could potentially undermine my efforts. But you're making this personal, aren't you?'_

One final surge gave Tyr-El the conformation he sought. This one was so intense it caused some of his hair to burn. Having made his point, Tyr-El had a decision to make. Thanks to Kal-El's unexpected tactics, his options were limited.

"Very well, grandson," said Tyr-El, now seething with intent. "If this is how you want to decide the future of the Clan of El…so be it!"

* * *

 **Metropolis Metropolitan Museum**

The stage was set. Superman had baited Tyr-El in a way he couldn't ignore. It meant unlocking a hidden function of Krypton's data crystals that he never thought he'd have to use. It was a failsafe his father had programmed into the crystals – one that would trigger paralyzing shocks in anyone bearing the DNA of the House of El. He had been led to believe that this failsafe was only to be used if his powers got out of control. He now doubted that was the full story.

' _He's coming,'_ mused Superman as he gazed up through the window in the ceiling. _'Thank you, Jor-El. I can't help but think you planned for this. You hoped it would never come. You may have even prayed. But it's happening. And I'm going to finish what you couldn't.'_

Standing under the light of the glowing data crystals that had since illuminated the museum, Superman waited for Tyr-El to arrive. His body was still stinging, having felt the same painful shocks as his distant grandfather. He doubted it would weaken Tyr-El. He refused to let it weaken him either.

He didn't have to wait long for Tyr-El to respond to his message. Less than a minute after the final surge, the glass window on the ceiling shattered and the menacing old Kryptonian came flying through – landing with a hard thud right in the center of the lobby and leaving a small crater in the process. He had an angry look in his eyes, but it had nothing to do with the discomfort he just caused him.

"Hello again, my grandson," said Tyr-El in a low yet powerful tone.

"Tyr-El," replied Superman flatly.

"Is this really your plan? Piss me off, draw me out, and fight in a setting of _your_ choosing?"

"It's _part_ of my plan."

"Well tactically speaking, it might actually have been wise were it not for the pissing me off part," said Tyr-El, already cracking his knuckles.

"As if you'd respond if I asked politely," said Superman, doing the same.

"Point taken," he said, "but if you think a setting like _this_ will give you an advantage, you're sadly mistaken."

"It doesn't have to. It just has to get us in one place so we can end this…for good!"

He had the same murderous intent in his eyes. Superman could see it within Tyr-El's gaze. It was unbefitting of Superman – the hero who came to Earth to forge an ideal for mankind and inspire them to achieve wonders. But in this rare instance, it was appropriate.

Tyr-El was ready to attack. He could see it in the way his muscles twitched. Were he any other adversary, he would've already thrown the first punch. But he wasn't just an adversary of equal strength and ability. He was family and this meant something to him.

"So how is this going to play out, Kal-El? Are we just going to fight until one or both of us is dead?" asked Tyr-El. "Is _that_ how you want our legacy to end?"

"I don't care how it ends so long as no more innocent people suffer," said Superman.

"A foolish and short-sighted goal," scoffed Tyr-El. "We may die on this day, but the terror I've inspired will continue. Generations of children will spread tales of terror about the Kryptonian people. You and all your good deeds will become an afterthought. No matter what the species, _fear_ will always trump charity."

"And hope will always trump fear," said the Man of Steel. "If you're trying to convince me to hold back, then try harder. It's _not_ going to work."

"I wouldn't want you to give any less than your best, distant grandson. You are a product of the Clan of El. Anything less is _unacceptable_. Just remember that this world is ill-equipped to handle our best. You may think you've cleared this area of innocents, but you're wrong. With hardly a sweat, I can take this fight to a crowd of sick children. Then, what will you do?"

It was a reasonable observation and Superman didn't doubt for a second that Tyr-El would resort to such tactics. That was why he planned accordingly.

"The same thing Superman always does – the right thing," he answered.

Tyr-El gave his distant grandson a confused look. In that brief moment of confusion, Superman made his move.

"Do it _now_!" Superman shouted.

Almost immediately, Wonder Woman came flying in from a darkened corridor on the other side of the museum. She flew at such high speeds that Tyr-El barely had enough time to turn his head to see her coming. By then, it was too late.

As soon as she was within 30 feet of him, Wonder Woman landed and pointed the Blade of Artemis towards Tyr-El. The Kryptonian data crystals nearby flashed brighter. The tip of the blade began flashing as well. Tyr-El instinctively prepared to counter, but Superman wouldn't let him. Flying at high speeds, he grabbed Tyr-El from behind before he could take a single step towards Wonder Woman.

"You again?!" exclaimed Tyr-El, recognizing her from their previous battle.

"Hold him down, Superman," urged Wonder Woman, "and brace yourself!"

Now trapped in Superman's grasp, Tyr-El could not avoid what happened next. The glowing ball of light on the tip of the Blade of Artemis erupted into a blinding flash. This flash briefly consumed the entire museum lobby, overtaking the light from the Kryptonian data crystals as well. In the process, the light shifted from a bright yellowish hue to a dark red. In addition to this transformation, both Superman and Tyr-El felt a sting shoot through their bodies.

"Aagghhh!" they both cried out.

As soon as the dark red light consumed their bodies, their eyes flashed a bright burst of yellowish energy. Then, like a dam bursting under the pressure, this energy poured out of them like an erupting volcano. The energy was subsequently drawn into the Blade of Artemis, turning it into a blade of simmering power. Some of this energy found its way to the data crystals as well, turning every one of them dark red and bathing the museum in an ominous red twilight.

It all transpired over the course of five seconds. It was the longest five seconds Superman had ever endured, but he imagined it was much longer for Tyr-El. When it finally passed, they both fell to their knees in a weakened state. Superman ended up releasing his grip on him, his legs no longer able to support him. He was in a great deal of discomfort, but so was Tyr-El.

"What – what did you do?" groaned Tyr-El. "Why do I feel so…"

"Weak? Frail? Vulnerable?" said Superman, grinning despite the discomfort. "That's because our cells have been drained of all their solar energy. For the next several hours, we're as powerless as every other human on this planet."

The implications were dire for the both of them. Still on his knees, Tyr-El made a fist to confirm what Superman had said. If the look on his face was any indication, he knew this fight would be very different than the last one.

"That's…impossible!" exclaimed Tyr-El. "I…made sure of it!"

"When you have friends who have friends who are actual gods, _nothing's_ impossible," said Superman, casting Wonder Woman a thankful glance.

"Friends can be more valuable than power," said Wonder Woman, still wielding the glowing swords, "and right now, you're lacking in both, Tyr-El."

Tyr-El let out more angry grunts. It marked the first time he showed signs of frustration. Having his power drained wasn't just painful. It was a major setback. He definitely didn't anticipate Superman taking this kind of gamble, rendering both of them this vulnerable.

This still didn't dissuade him. Despite his frustration, Tyr-El staged back to his feet and stared down Wonder Woman. She still had the Blade of Artemis in hand. She kept it pointed at him, making it clear she was ready to use it.

"I'd ask you to surrender now, Tyr-El," said Wonder Woman, "but I'd rather you not. You've long since crossed the line that would earn you mercy."

"I wouldn't have accepted it anyway," spat Tyr-El, "and as for me not having friends – well, you'd be dead wrong!"

Before Wonder Woman could attack, the old Kryptonian retrieved the data crystal in his pocket that he had used earlier at the Fortress of Solitude. He then held it up over his head and activated it, causing it to glow with a dark purplish hue. It then let out a distinct humming sound that reverberated throughout the museum. Within moments, every nearby door burst open and deafening bangs echoed through the corridors. The next thing Superman and Wonder Woman knew, they were surrounded by Tyr-El's reborn Doomsday Legion.

They came flying in with speed and power on par with Wonder Woman. They all bore the distinct figure and poise of an Amazon. However, they looked nothing like the Amazons that Wonder Woman knew. They were taller, more heavily muscled, and bore Tyr-El's distinctly pale skin tone. They also bore an array of spike-like scales all over their shoulders and arms. They all had glowing red eyes, a distinct mark of their alien biology. And with these eyes, they set their sights on Wonder Woman and Superman.

"By the gods…" gasped Wonder Woman.

"Kal-El…Diana of Themyscira…say hello to my new Doomsday Legion!" proclaimed Tyr-El. "Don't expect them to show any mercy either."

Within seconds, they were completely surrounded. Dozens of these Amazon/Kryptonian beasts swarmed the area and positioned themselves for battle. Every one of them had a hardened, statute-like gaze every bit as ruthless as Tyr-El's. It confirmed for Superman that these monstrosities had been the ones responsible for the atrocity that he saw in Kasnia. It seemed Batman was right once again. Tyr-El had recreated his army.

"You may have disrupted my powers," he said, "but rest assured, my Legion has more than enough power to carry out my attacks for me. Any man, woman, or child in this city – or even this hemisphere – will suffer!"

"You don't need to convince me, Tyr-El. I already saw what they did in Kasnia," said Superman.

"I also heard what they did to one of _my_ sisters," added Wonder Woman in a much more menacing tone. "You truly are depraved, monster! You dare to desecrate an Amazon's honor and pervert their form for your own selfish ends!"

"The Doomsday Legion is fit for only the strongest warriors," said Tyr-El, "and on this planet, that happens to be the Amazons. Be as outraged as you want. I only channeled the bloodlust that was already in them. Their fierce strength – their unflinching hatred towards men – they're perfect for the tactics of the Doomsday Legion! And now, you will die by their hands!"

For once, Wonder Woman's outrage towards Tyr-El matched that of Superman's. This man didn't just attack the Amazons. He perverted their very flesh with these creatures. At the same time, however, the bloodlust he mentioned was clearly there. In the glowing eyes of these creatures, she saw the same hatred that stemmed from centuries of Amazon tradition. Tyr-El didn't create it. He just exploited it in the most horrific way imaginable.

The hulking beasts that had been forged by Amazon flesh closed in on them, letting out a deep hissing noise that reflected their bloodlust. They were just waiting for Tyr-El to give the order, as though they ached for the chance to maim their enemies. It indicated that he had some sort of direct control over them, yet another perversion of Amazon honor.

Clenching the Blade of Artemis, Wonder Woman prepared for battle. She also glanced over towards Superman, who remained close to Tyr-El. Even without his powers, this monster thought he had the advantage. He had no idea how wrong he was.

"You're forgetting one thing, Tyr-El," she said cryptically.

"Oh? And what might that be?" he said skeptically.

"An Amazons bloodlust is always balanced by compassion…and justice."

Eager to back up her words with action, Wonder Woman held the glowing Blade of Artemis up over her head. Then, the light gathered from the blade erupted in a series of blinding energy bursts. These bursts shot out all over the museum, impacting just in front of the imposing monstrosities of the Doomsday Legion. The creatures barely flinched, but the impact did more than leave a mark on the floor.

From each energy burst, large yellowish gateways formed. They were not unlike the boom tubes used during Darkseid's invasion. But from these gateways, a very different presence emerged.

"AMAZONS ATTACK!" came the commanding voice of Philippus.

In wake of this command, thunderous echo of war cries rang out as an entire contingent of Amazon warriors poured out into the area. Armed with swords and shields – covered in traditional Amazon armor – they stepped out of the portal ready to fight. They had no need for tact or cunning. As soon as they saw these perversion of Amazon sisterhood, they attacked in full force.

It caught every creature, including Tyr-El, off-guard. Within seconds, the legion was driven back as the Amazons struck first and struck hard – ensuring Tyr-El could not use his army to fight this battle for him.

"This is an…undesired complication," said Tyr-El as he watched his Doomsday Legion falter in wake of this surprise attack. "You Amazons would fight your own flesh to protect the world of man?"

"Honesty, Tyr-El, did you think we would let this stand?" scoffed Wonder Woman. "The Amazons have their flaws. The gods themselves have flaws. But when you dare exploit them like this – well, let's just say even the mercy of the gods has limits."

* * *

 **Mount Olympus – Earlier**

"Goddess Hera, I humbly seek your audience and your aid," said a conflicted and desperate Diana.

"Oh this day just got _markedly_ more interesting," said a bemused and semi-sober Hera as she sat on the throne once occupied by Zeus.

"Please, Goddess – I need more than your interest."

"Humor me, Diana," she quipped. "Those are words I never thought I'd hear from you again – at least, not _this_ soon."

Already, this proved much harder than Diana anticipated. She knew the moment Clark asked this of her that this would be a strain on her heart. Here she was, kneeling before Hera – the same goddess the turned her mother to stone after her affair was Zeus was revealed. And she was still begging for her help.

It showed just how far she was willing to go to help Superman. He had to know on some levels how difficult this would be for her. She expected Hera to make it even more difficult.

"Go on. Say it again! Pray to me – the goddess who exposed your whore of a mother and punished her accordingly," said Hera as she poured herself another glass of wine. "Maybe say it louder this time. Put it in the form of a poem if you can."

"Goddess please…time is of the essence. Is this approach of yours necessary?" urged Diana, hiding her emotional turmoil as best she could.

"I'm an embittered immortal woman and a wife scorned," she scoffed. "I have to take what I can get. Please, let me enjoy this. Let me enjoy the fruits of divine irony, if only for a moment."

Diana continued to kneel, hiding her expression and her resentment. This goddess may have been responsible for her mother's death, but she was still the Goddess of Womanhood. She was still the woman every Amazon prayed to. Their blessings and their legacy came from her. However, Diana's appreciation of those blessings and legacy had been tempered somewhat. She could only give Hera so much piety, but that didn't stop Hera from enjoying it.

With a full glass of wine in hand, she held it up over Diana's head and poured a little on her before drinking the rest. This sort of act was supposed to be a sacrament or a blessing. The way Hera did it this time made it feel like an act of indignation – rubbing salt in the wound left by her mother's death.

This would've been a perfect moment to fight for her mother's life and her honor. She may have lied to her sisters and slept with the King of the Gods – who also happened to be Hera's husband – but Diana's love for her mother never faltered. She did not deserve to be dishonored like this, even by the patron goddess of the Amazons. It tore at her heart, coming to Hera like this. But it had to be done. Tyr-El could not be stopped without divine intervention.

"Alright, that's enough. On your feet, Princess – or Queen, as it were. Now stand and show some regal authority," said Hera dryly. "I already know why you're here."

"You know of Tyr-El and the crime committed against our own?" asked Diana as she rose up.

"I'm a goddess, Diana. We tend to know things in general," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Then surely you would agree that this is an egregious crime! This man – this creature is threat to man, Amazon, and god alike. He seeks conquest through brutality and atrocity! He is without honor or justice!"

"You're right. This creature – Tyr-El, as he calls himself – is a beast in his own right. To call him a man would insult even the most vile of their kind. And believe me, I do _not_ say such things lightly. However, there is a context to consider – one that makes me hesitant to act."

"What possible context could that be?" asked Diana, struggling to contain her outrage at this point. "This man maimed innocents and raped women! Surely the Goddess of Womanhood wouldn't hesitate to confront that!"

"Don't pretend you know what it means to be a Goddess, Diana – let alone the Goddess of Womanhood. And while you're at it, don't forget you are the daughter of a woman who hid her lies and lechery behind an aura honor. Your perspective is as skewed as any mortal."

Diana bit her tongue to keep herself from arguing with the goddess any further. She knew if she did, she would say something she would regret. As much as she wanted to defend her mother, she still needed Hera's help. She hadn't forgotten that. She also hadn't forgotten that Hera was a goddess. Her perspectives were bound to be different and being a loyal Amazon, she had to respect that.

Hera clearly sensed Diana's inner tension, but continued to make light of it. She just poured herself another glass of wine, crossed her legs, and looked down at her with the inherent superiority that every god on Olympus enjoyed.

"You and your sisters are horrified by the crimes of this man, as you should be," said Hera. "Rape, torture, mutilation – these are all atrocities that disgust even gods. At the same time, however, we're often driven to these barbaric acts by circumstances we neither control nor acknowledge. It reminds me somewhat of the circumstances surrounding Zeus and his father, Cronus."

"Yes, I know the story. Zeus defeated his father and cut off his manhood as a means of securing that defeat," said Diana impatiently. "I fail to see how this story relates to the current conflict."

"That's because you're ignoring the conflict that came before that act. On its own, it is an atrocity – a man dismembering another man after he's been defeated. However, that atrocity came after a long and brutal war against the Titans. The number of atrocities committed in that war – they _pale_ in comparison to anything a moral could contemplate. In that context, Cronus got off easy. He lost his manhood, but he could've lost much more if Zeus willed it."

"So you're saying there's more to Tyr-El's atrocity than I'm willing to concede?"

"On the contrary," said Hera, "I think you've seen just as much as I've seen. You just can't – or _won't_ – see beyond it."

Hera gulped down the last of her wine and finally set her glass aside. She then approached Diana, still standing atop the pedestal so that she towered over her. She still carried herself with this divine superiority, giving the impression she knew more than any mortal could know. It was arrogant and condescending in the utmost. However, being a goddess, she had every right to carry herself in such a manner. And being the Goddess of Womanhood, she offered a perspective that Diana might need for the coming battle.

"In many respects, you Amazons have been spoiled," Hera continued. "You may be the greatest warriors or lore, but you've never endured a war like the one the gods fought with the Titans. If you had, then the stories surrounding our _lurid_ deeds would make a lot more sense. You see, war on any scale is brutal. But when it gets to a certain level, the brutality becomes an afterthought. You don't care for honor, glory, or justice. Your only intention is to destroy the enemy."

"The Amazons have fought in some pretty brutal conflicts," Diana pointed out. "We've always strived to maintain our honor and compassion through any hardship."

"That's easy to say. It's even easier to forget when the war escalates," she retorted. "This Tyr-El came from another world. The wars he fought were so much bigger than anything on this feeble world. To him, these atrocities are nothing more than swatting a bug. He doesn't see them in terms of justice or honor. He's crossed so many lines that those concepts cease to have meaning. The gods have crossed that line as well. So, as much as it disgusts me, I understand why he does what he does. And if you don't – well then, it won't matter if I answer your prayers."

Diana's outrage and impatience finally subsided. Here's words were perfectly valid and not just because she was a goddess. Neither she nor Superman put much thought into the context of Tyr-El's atrocities. They just saw them as injustices. While they most certainly were, there had to be other factors at work.

It made her think back to conflict she felt when agonizing the legacy of the Amazons and their path moving forward. She saw their traditions of abandoning their sons and murdering their fathers as only an atrocity. She didn't contemplate the bigger picture surrounding such practices. They certainly mattered to her sisters and they mattered even more to the gods.

"The difference between the arrogance of gods and the arrogance of mortals is uncomfortably small," Hera continues. "It differs only in scale and Tyr-El embodies the weight that breaks the scale."

"And does that not make him worth stopping?" asked Diana.

"That depends. Say I help you and this Superman you've grown so fond of," she said, her tone becoming more sober. "This elaborate plan of yours succeeds, Tyr-El is destroyed, and the scale never breaks. From the most limited point of view, the battle ends in victory. However, if you were to step back and look at things from a broader perspective, what would that mean for you? For Superman? For your entire understanding of truth and justice?"

"Is this a rhetorical question? Or some divine test?" asked Diana.

"I wish it were," scoffed Hera. "I'm dead serious. What do you see beyond this conflict that has disgusted you so?"

Diana didn't want to give it too much thought. Time was of the essence. Every moment she spent in contemplation was another moment she gave Tyr-El to commit more atrocities. It disgusted her as much as it disgusted Superman. However, in scrutinizing that disgust, she began to see what Hera was referring to.

Defeating Tyr-El would not un-taint Kal-El's legacy, nor would abandoning her sisters' barbaric traditions un-taint the legacy of the Amazons. She had dwelled so much on the past that she hadn't given much thought to the future.

"Great wars and the atrocities they breed tend to skew our capacity for arrogance," said Hera. "It gets skewed so much that even in victory, we cling to that arrogance out of fear that we might find ourselves in an even greater war."

"It sounds more like an excuse rather than arrogance," Diana pointed out.

"It only seems that way when your perceptions are un-skewed," said Hera, "but make no mistake, bastard of Zeus. You're the lucky one. You should be _grateful_ that your perceptions are so untainted."

"You almost sound envious, Goddess."

"I am…and that's not just the wine talking," she said in an overly sober tone. "If you, your sisters, and Superman fight this war – your honor and spirit could be lost forever. Your battle against Tyr-El could be every bit as damaging as our fight against the Titans. Victory will not unburden you. It'll only harden your hearts beyond repair. You'll spend the rest of your days obsessing over ways to avoid such a war, crossing every line you must and letting yourself be haunted by its horrors. The truth, justice, and ideals you so cherish so much will lose their meaning. In the end, you'll be justifying your own atrocities just as Tyr-El."

It was a distressing thought – almost as distressing as any atrocity committed by Tyr-El. Diana recalled the anguish Kal felt when he learned the truth about his family. It was not unlike the anguish she felt when she learned the truth about the Amazons' heritage. It led her to wonder the consequences beyond this conflict with Tyr-El – especially those pertaining to Superman.

Diana briefly closed her eyes in sorrow. In her mind, she saw a solemn, conflicted Kal-El who could not escape the horrors of his legacy. Because of this conflict, he would become more reckless and arrogant – crossing lines he once never dared in order to avoid becoming defined by that legacy. He would lose sight of what it meant to be Superman. He would eventually cease to be the man for whom she had such strong feelings.

At the same time, she also saw a version of herself that was every bit as terrifying. She saw an Amazon so intent on escaping her sisters' barbaric traditions that she succumbed to that arrogance as well. In her desperate effort to avoid this legacy, she started crossing lines as well. As a result, she doesn't become a Wonder Woman she would recognize. Rather than justice and compassion, fear and arrogance would drive her. Like Superman, she would swap one broken legacy for another.

When Diana opened her eyes again, she still saw Hera standing over her with a smug demeanor. She could already sense her anxious demeanor. Having already been hardened, like the rest of the gods, she casually retrieved her wine glass and returned to her throne.

"I've already made my decision. I _am_ going to help you, Diana," said Hera as she sat back down on her throne.

"I…appreciate that, Goddess," said Diana, "but I get the sense that your assistance will come at a price."

"Not so much a _price_ in as much a _condition_ ," she replied cryptically. "Being a goddess, I already have a vague idea of what you're planning. I have a much less vague idea of how you intend to use the Blade of Artemis."

"I was hoping to avoid getting her involved," said Diana, looking down at the blade.

"She won't be. She'd put a price on her aid. I'm better than her. I know there's nothing you can give me that would make my immortal existence any less inane. However, there is something you can do to make it less…complicated."

A deal with the gods was never easy. Diana knew this before she even arrived. She also knew that dealing with the same goddess who took her mother from her would be extra strenuous on her heart. She had already accepted that the battle against Tyr-El was going to leave lasting scars. This was one of them.

"Name it," said Diana, having no doubts in her tone.

Hera, with a fresh glass of wine now in hand, grinned ominously.

"Present the Blade of Artemis to me and tell me exactly what you want it to do," said the Goddess of Womanhood. "Then, kneel before me and listen _very_ carefully. If the battle against Tyr-El is to have any worthwhile resolution, then you must be prepared to make a very important choice – one that will have grave implications for you and for Superman."

* * *

 **Metropolis Metropolitan Museum – Present Time**

The battle against Tyr-El had begun. This was, by far, the best – and possibly last – opportunity to end his atrocities once and for all. He and Superman had been depowered, rendered as vulnerable as any ordinary human. On top of that, Tyr-El's Doomsday Legion had been occupied by an army of angry Amazons – having abandoned their isolation in favor of taking down these abominations. In the light of the glowing data crystals that once made up this museum's most treasured exhibit, the battle for the House of El's legacy was on.

"You know the plan, sisters! Attack, contain, and kill!" yelled Philippus, who led the Amazon army against the Doomsday Legion.

"Attack…contain…kill! Attack…contain…kill!" they repeated in perfect unison.

More war cries erupted throughout the museum as the army of well-trained warriors attacked, hitting the hulking monstrosities of the Doomsday Legion with full force. The Amazons' attacks were coordinated and strategic, intent on keeping them within the museum to minimize the damage. It also ensured that Tyr-El could not count on them for backup in facing Kal-El.

"It's over, Tyr-El. It's time we finish this!" said Superman intently.

"You're clever, distant grandson – clever, yet short-sighted," said Tyr-El, showing no fear in the face of this new vulnerability. "Do you really think de-powering me and occupying my army will grant you victory?"

"Maybe you haven't noticed, but it's just you and me who are de-powered. The lady here isn't," said Superman, gesturing towards Wonder Woman.

"And that lady happens to have a sword that contains the energy of a small sun," said Wonder Woman, pointing the swords towards him to help make his point. "I can end you where you stand, but Kal has something he wants to take care of first."

"Well that works out perfectly for both of us," said the old Kryptonian with an ominous grin. "As it just so happens, I know someone who can keep you occupied in the meantime."

Tyr-El clenched the same glowing data crystal he used to summon the Doomsday Legion. Neither Superman nor Wonder Woman had a chance to stop him. Superman only managed to grab his wrist before it began flashing. By then, it was too late.

"Oh no you don't!" said the Man of Steel.

"I already did," said Tyr-El.

Wonder Woman was about to fly in and subdue Tyr-El where he stood. She barley took half-a-step before a deafening bang echoed from the eastern wing of the museum. The Amazon warrior turned her head just in time to see a hulking figure burst through the heavy walls with overwhelming strength and fly towards her at high speeds. Wonder Woman barely managed to raise her arms in time before she was struck. Upon meeting with this overwhelming force, she heard a terrifying yet familiar voice.

"D-D-DIANA!" screeched the creature that struck her.

In the blink of an eye, she was knocked clear across the museum and far away from Superman and Tyr-El. She flew clear past the battle between the Amazons and the Doomsday Legion, landing in an exhibit that, fittingly enough, specialized in Ancient Greek artifacts. She landed flat on her back, causing cracks to form in the floor. Before she could even get up, the creature that struck her pinned her down. It was at this moment that Wonder Woman realized that this creature was different from the rest of the Doomsday Legion.

"By the gods – Aleka? Is that you?" said Wonder Woman through the pain and shock.

"Hrrr…kill you!" the creature hissed.

As she lay pinned under the creatures grasp, Wonder Woman confirmed her fears. Beyond the hissing, the tone in her voice and the imposing stature were unmistakable. This was Aleka. However, she had been corrupted and twisted by Tyr-El's madness in the worst possible way.

Like the rest of the Doomsday Legion, she had undergone a perverse transformation. Her flesh was now white and pale, just like Tyr-El's. She also had these spikey scales protruding from her arms, shoulders, and neck. She stood nearly twice as tall as she remembered, her body now bulging with heavy muscles. Aleka had already been among the strongest Amazons on Themyscira. Now, she had been turned into a true monster.

"My sister," said Wonder Woman as she fought this monstrosity's grip, "what has he done to you?"

"D-D-Diana…kill me!" she hissed.

Her words surprised Wonder Woman this time. They seemed to surprise Aleka as well. For a brief moment, her grip faltered. It gave Wonder Woman the moment she needed to push her off and position herself for a counterattack.

With the Blade of Artemis still in hand, Wonder Woman returned to her feet and took a defensive stands. She watched Aleka take on a similar stance. She also happened to be positioned directly in her way. If she wanted to get back to Superman to aid him, then she would have to go through her corrupted sister. It was another one of Tyr-El's devious yet effective tactics. The bonds of sisterhood that bound the Amazons made her reluctant to attack in full force. From the looks of it, Aleka even shared some of that reluctance.

"Aleka, I know you can hear me! Whatever Tyr-El did to you, there's no way his hold on you is absolute!" said Wonder Woman. "You're one of the strongest Amazons I know. You do not let others control you…especially a man!"

"Errr! Kill you…kill me!" she hissed, her every muscle tensing as she stared Wonder Woman down.

"Aleka…"

"KILL YOU! KILL ME!"

Each word sounded like pure agony. Driven by this agony, this monstrosity that had once been her sister attacked – swiping at Wonder Woman with her massive fists. She instinctively tried to block, but the force of her attack caught her by surprised – so much so that it knocked the glowing Blade of Artemis out of her hand and sent it flying across the room. Before Wonder Woman could try to retrieve it, Aleka attacked again – rushing her hard and pushing her back against a brick wall, knocking her right through it.

"Kill you…kill me!" she said once more, the agony growing with every second.

As she held her down, Wonder Woman saw a distinct gaze in Aleka's eyes. Her complexion and stature may no longer reflect the proud warrior she knew, but Wonder Woman could still see signs of her sister. It manifested through her agony, which seemed to compel her every move. In seeing the breadth of this agony, Wonder Woman realized what she had to do.

"Aleka…forgive me," she said.

With a burst of strength, Wonder Woman threw the hulking figure off her and returned to her feet. Then, she went on the offensive, striking Aleka hard with a punishing right cross to the face. It was the kind of blow that would've put even a hardened Amazon on her back, but Aleka only stammered in her current form. She tried to counter with another hard swipe, but Wonder Woman evaded it this time before launching another attack.

Fighting a sister like this was never easy. Amazons did not take battling one another lightly. Every blow that followed had to be delivered with a heavy heart. Aleka's perverse form was yet another atrocity committed by Tyr-El. It had to end here and being Queen of the Amazons, Wonder Woman had to be the one to end it.

' _First, he ravaged one of my sisters. Now, he's turned one against me. Tyr-El's cruelty is truly obscene. This is already personal enough for Kal. It's now much more personal for me as well – more so than before.'_

With Wonder Woman battling Aleka and the Amazons occupying the Doomsday Legion, it left Superman to deal with Tyr-El himself. It might have been less efficient than he had planned, but it was also fitting. He was the last link in the House of El – the only one left who could end Tyr-El's bloody legacy once and for all. In addition to sparing countless innocent lives from future atrocities, this was his last chance to salvage his family's honor.

"Were you really willing to be _that_ cowardly, distant grandson? To have your woman end me where I stand while you watch on?" said Tyr-El as he stared down Superman.

"It would've ended this quickly and with some semblance of mercy," retorted Superman as he cracked his knuckles in anticipation. "Then again, mercy might as well a foreign concept to you."

"No. Not foreign," said Tyr-El as he cracked his knuckles as well. "Just obsolete!"

Tyr-El didn't wait for Superman to throw the first punch. He attacked head on. He lacked the speed, strength, and agility he had before. However, he was every bit as tenacious, driven by the same bloodlust that once made him Krypton's deadliest warrior.

Superman immediately went on the defensive, blocking each blow with his arms. In doing so, he was still struck by the unexpected impact of this strike. He was so used to being invulnerable. It usually took a hit from Darkseid for him to feel a punch, but he had already prepared himself for plenty of discomfort. Whatever pain this fight brought, he was ready to endure it. He didn't expect Tyr-El to be any less tenacious.

He let Tyr-El wear himself out with his initial outburst, staying on the defensive and blocking every one of his enemy's punches. It was a technique he learned from Batman. Let the enemy be reckless and angry, revealing their tendencies in the process. Superman didn't have nearly the hand-to-hand skill of Batman, but he learned years ago that he couldn't only rely on his powers. Sometimes, he had to win a battle as Clark Kent. This time, he also had to win it as Kal-El.

"I've fought in countless wars! Mastered the fighting style of the ancients! Killed countless warriors of far greater skill!" yelled Tyr-El in between each attack. "Defeating you – my distant grandson – is but an inconvenience!"

"Then your age must be catching up to you, _grandpa_ ," taunted Superman. "Without your powers, you're downright sluggish."

"I…don't need…such power…to kill you!" he spat, his efforts becoming more labored.

"But it would make things more _convenient_ , wouldn't they?"

Tyr-El let out a frustrated grunt before launching another attack. This time, he tried to fight dirty, throwing in a few kicks to the knee and a head butt to the forehead. It staggered Superman, but he shook it off and remained defensive.

This was just what he needed – Tyr-El getting angry and reckless. It was something everyone else in the Justice League had done at some point – taunting their enemy and playing head games. Superman usually didn't have to resort to such tactics. He didn't even need to here. For Tyr-El, however, he made an exception.

"You're so cold and ruthless, Tyr-El. You rely on the fear and dread of your enemies," said Superman as he deflected another kick, "but what do you do when they're not afraid?"

"I…don't need you…to fear me!" yelled Tyr-El as he tried to get in a few body blows.

"Then why do you keep trying? Are you worried that without it, you'll lose?"

His taunting had irritated Tyr-El to the point where he abandoned any technique and just blindly attacked. This gave Superman the opportunity he needed. When Tyr-El threw the next punch, he evaded it instead of blocking. He then delivered heavy knee to the gut, hitting Tyr-El so hard that he coughed up blood – something he hadn't done in centuries.

"Ack!" he gasped.

"Yeah…I'd say you're _worried_ now," said Superman intently.

He then went on the offensive, striking Tyr-El with a series of body blows. The old Kryptonian was driven back for the first time, stammering with every step. For every punch he blocked, Superman landed two others. He could feel his ribs cracking under the impact. He could see the pain escalating on his face. When he tried to dig in his heels and counter with a body blow as well, Superman used it as an opportunity to land a blow to the head.

His fist made contact with the side of Tyr-El's face. The impact hurt, causing his whole hand to sting. But it hurt Tyr-El more. Teeth were listened. Jawbones cracked. His age definitely showed in the way his body took the impact. Tyr-El stumbled back and crashed against the large crystal array, which was still glowing ominously. He managed to stay on his feet, but his face was now bloodied and bruised. Not willing to take a chance, Superman moved in to end this.

"This is the part where I'd give someone a chance to surrender," said the Man of Steel as he approached his wounded enemy. "It's an important part of being Superman – showing mercy, even to my enemies."

"Heh…again with the mercy?" scoffed Tyr-El as he wiped the blood from his face. "You still expect to convince me of its merits?"

"I know I can't convince you, Tyr-El. I won't bother. I just want you to know what makes us different. You may not see it, but that capacity for mercy and understanding – that makes me stronger than you'll _ever_ be!"

Superman attempted to hammer his point home by striking Tyr-El again with one last crippling blow. Raising both his fists, he tried to deliver one last blow to the head to knock him out. However, Tyr-El surprised him with his reflexes and evaded it by the slimmest of margins. Superman's fists slammed right against the panel of the crystal array, causing some of them to react.

A series of erratic flashes shot out from the crystals, creating jumbled holograms and large sparks. It momentarily blinded Superman and forced him to guard his eyes.

" _Error-bzzt-error,"_ said the computerized voice.

"Aagh!" groaned Superman as the erratic holograms disoriented him.

"You want strength? I'll show you strength!" spat Tyr-El.

Using Superman's stunned state to his advantage, the old Kryptonian launched another attack – shutting out the pain from his injuries and letting his bloodlust fuel him once more. He laid into his distant grandson with a powerful punch to the ribcage, striking with such force that he felt them crack under his knuckles. He then followed with a couple of body blows and a strike to the side of the face.

Now it was Superman's turn to be stunned by his sudden vulnerability. He hadn't felt his bones break since his last fight against Darkseid. It hurt, sending painful stings up through his body. And Tyr-El was more ruthless when it came to magnifying the pain. He struck those same areas again, causing even more damage.

Soon, Superman began coughing up blood and struggled to keep his balance. He eventually managed to block some of Tyr-El's shots and stop the onslaught. He managed to grab Tyr-El's arms and hold him back in a grapple. However, the damage done to both of them was adding up. He could feel it and if the blood dripping from Tyr-El's mouth was any indication, he felt it too.

"You think…I'm afraid of pain?" seethed Tyr-El, spitting blood on Superman's face with every word. "I've endured war…wounds…and torture. Any pain you can take – I can take 100 times more!"

"I didn't intend…to stop you…with pain alone," said Superman.

"Nor did I," said Tyr-El.

In another unexpected move, Tyr-El broke the grapple and struck Superman with a hard kick to the gut. This knocked him back, but this time Tyr-El didn't launch another attack. Instead, he turned his attention to his Doomsday Legion, which had been held in check by the Amazons. Still wielding the small crystal that helped him infiltrate the Fortress of Solitude, he clutched it firmly – causing it to glow once more.

"Doomsday Legion…I have a new mission for you!" he called out. "Quit wasting time here. Initiate the Theta Protocols!"

His voice triggered an immediate reaction for every unit in the Doomsday Legion. Much to the surprise of the Amazons, they froze where they stood and immediately took defensive positions. This didn't stop the Amazons from attacking, but their attacks did little to hinder them. It only allowed them to reorient themselves in preparation for a new line of attack.

"No…" gasped Superman, who recognized that protocol.

"You know what to do," said Tyr-El with a taunting grin. "Head out in every direction, find any civilian you can, and maim them in the worst possible way. If you find a woman, rape her. If you find a man, dismember him. If you find a child, kill it in front of its parents. Don't stop until I say otherwise or until you run out of civilians…whichever comes first!"

"Kill…rape…maim! Kill…rape…maim!" the Doomsday Legion said in perfect unison.

Without hesitation, every unit in the Doomsday Legion turned away from the Amazons and took to the air. They then flew away at high speeds, flying through the various holes in the ceilings and walls they made earlier when they arrived. Many of the Amazons were shocked and dismayed by this move.

"No! Get back here you cowards!" yelled Philippus.

"They're getting away? What do we do?" asked one of the Amazons.

"Go after them! We cannot let these abominations escape!" she yelled.

Philippus, not abandoning the battle plan that Wonder Woman had laid out for them, followed the fleeing Doomsday Legion out of the museum. They couldn't afford to fall too far behind. These creatures' very existence was an affront to the Amazons. Their destruction was necessary to preserve their honor.

While the Amazons went after the Doomsday Legion, Tyr-El made his next move. He saw the horror in Superman's eyes. He knew he was dreading the atrocities that his legion would commit on the innocent civilians throughout Metropolis. He then took full advantage of it.

"Want to stop them? You'll need this," said Tyr-El, holding up the crystal. "Here!"

In another move that caught Superman completely off-guard, Tyr-El tossed the glowing crystal he used right at him. He instinctively caught it, but it distracted him just long enough for Try-El to fly in and attack in full force.

This time, Superman was unable to block the incoming attack. Tyr-El landed a devastating haymaker to the head, followed by a barrage of punches and a kick to the gut that put the Man of Steel in a world of agony. Blood streamed down his face and filled his lungs. Every breath became a test in pain tolerance due to his broken ribs. Despite this pain, he tried to hold onto the glowing crystal that Tyr-El threw at him – willing to endure such pain if he could somehow use it to protect Metropolis' people.

However, the extent of the pain soon caught up with him and was unable to remain on his feet. Tyr-El made sure he couldn't even brace himself. As soon as Superman fell to one knee, Tyr-El kicked his other knee – causing it to bend in ways it wasn't supposed to bend.

"Aaagghhh!" he exclaimed.

The Man of Steel let out a pained cry as bones broke and ligaments tore. He finally fell to the cold pavement, still clinging to the crystal with all his might. Then, Tyr-El roughly stomped on his wrist, forcing him to let go of it. But instead of picking it up, Tyr-El just casually kicked the crystal aside.

"By the way…I lied," said Tyr-El. "That crystal wouldn't have done a damn thing. It's tailored to my DNA and mine alone. That means you just let me get the better of you…for _nothing_!"

"Hnn…" groaned Superman as he tried to get up.

Tyr-El hit him again with a hard punch to the head, forcing him back down onto the ground. It was a cruel, deceitful trick – one perfectly befitting of a monster like Tyr-El. He was willing to lie, cheat, and deceive just as he was willing to commit rape, torture, and murder. If he hadn't been in so much pain already, Superman would've kicked himself for falling for it. Now, he was at Tyr-El's mercy once more.

As he writhed in agony, Tyr-El reached down and grabbed him by the neck. He then elevated his head so that he could look Tyr-El in his battered and bruised eyes. The bloodlust in his gaze had never been stronger. It was as though he wanted this to be the last sight Superman ever saw.

"You feel that, distant grandson?" he taunted. "That pain you feel…is your fate…and that of all your ancestors. I want you to remember this pain…because it's just a _fraction_ of what these feeble humans will experience!"

Tyr-El then added to the pain, slamming Superman's face down onto the ground jamming his elbow into his lower back. The Man of Steel felt a paralyzing sting shoot through his body. He coughed up more blood and struggled to keep his lungs going. But Tyr-El wouldn't let him just writhe.

"I could snap your neck right now. I probably should," said Tyr-El, "but you said it yourself. Mercy…is an alien concept to me. No…I'm going to make you listen to the torment of these people you love so dearly. I'm going to make you watch…and listen…to every brutal act."

"The Amazons…will stop them," said Superman weakly.

"They're already too late," said Tyr-El. "Out in the sun, their strength will grow. The Amazons won't just fall. They'll just be more flesh for my legion to ravage. They wouldn't even be the first."

His every word cut deep, widening the scars that went beyond the pain. There was truly no limit to what Tyr-El was willing to do to torment his enemies. No atrocity was too egregious. No amount of suffering was too great. Even his own family was not immune.

Tyr-El was intent on destroying every last sliver of hope that Superman still had. The symbol on his chest, which supposedly stood for hope, was about to be rendered meaningless. Then, as Tyr-El's endless bloodlust dominated the Man of Steel's senses, an unexpected message came in through his Justice League communications link, which was remarkably still intact.

" _Superman! Superman, come in. It's Batman. I'm here. And I cashed in that favor I mentioned."_

As soon as Superman heard this, he managed a weak grin. This was another part of his plan that he hoped wouldn't be necessary, but his cunning once again paid off. If Tyr-El really was trying to crush every last trace of hope, then he just failed.

"What was that? What are you smiling about?" demanded Tyr-El.

"You feel that, Tyr-El?" said Superman, mirroring his adversary's exact words. "That's the sound…of you failing yet again. You see…there's a benefit…to not terrorizing everyone you come across. You make…friends. You create…allies. And some of them…are just as eager…to see you fail."

* * *

 **Outside Metropolis Metropolitan Museum**

" _Are you seeing this, Green Lantern? Your window is closing fast,"_ said Batman from aboard the Batwing as he flew over the Metropolis skyline.

"I see it, Batman," said a confident Hal Jordan as he flew ahead in a halo of green energy, "and don't worry. I'm faster!"

" _I thought we agreed that only Flash is allowed to say that."_

"If he saw what we're seeing, I think he'd let it slide."

This was usually the kind of situation where Green Lantern loved to show off. It wasn't every day that Batman called in a priority alert, ready to cash in one of the many favors he and the rest of the League owed him. However, this was one instance where he opted to skip the showmanship and contain this volatile situation.

He had arrived from Oa just moments ago at Batman's urging. They had watched the monstrous creatures of the Doomsday Legion burst out of the museum. They fanned out in all directions, letting out menacing roars that could be heard for miles. Any civilians still trying to flee the city were at risk. Having seen the atrocities in Kasnia, Batman understood the importance of protecting these civilians as much as Superman. That's where Green Lantern came in.

Before the Doomsday Legion could get too far in any direction, Green Lantern flew up over the museum until he hovered several hundred feet over the central building. Then, using his power ring, he created a massive dome of green energy and cast it over the museum.

"Don't know what they're running from. They're _not_ getting through on my watch!" said Green Lantern.

The dome of green energy slammed down over the museum, creating a massive barrier. It dug deep into the pavement and streets around the museum, creating deep ditches that discouraged any of these creatures from digging under it. At first, the creatures of the Doomsday Legion barely noticed this new obstacle. It was only one the first wave of the legion slammed into the barrier that they reacted.

"Errr! Must kill…must rape…must maim!" they all screeched.

Like angry caged animals, they relentlessly pounded on the barrier with all their might. Given how their might had been derived from Amazon and Kryptonian blood, their pounding caused plenty of strain on the dome. Some parts even began to crack. But Green Lantern picked up on this and reinforced it.

"Whoa! Those things are stronger than they look," he said as he funneled more energy into the dome.

" _Remember what I told you? They're part Amazon and part Kryptonian. They're bound to be strong,"_ said Batman through the radio.

"Not gonna lie, Bats. I stopped listening after you said army of monsters threatening civilians," said Green Lantern. "It's kind of a reflex for me."

" _Well assume these creatures have the collective strength of Superman and Wonder Woman. They will break through at some point. You'll run out of energy before they run out of bloodlust."_

"You really have _that_ little faith in me?"

" _It's faith. It's physics,"_ replied Batman. _"These things want to break out. They want to torture every civilian they can. No obstacle will stop them. Only Superman and Wonder Woman can stop them at the source."_

"Great! Any idea how long _that_ will take?" asked Green Lantern, already feeling the strain.

" _As long as it has to,"_ he said.

Green Lantern muttered a few curses under his breath. Whenever Batman was vague with timeframes, it usually meant he was in for plenty of strain. He could already sense the Doomsday Legion punching angrily at multiple sections of the energy dome. These weren't just light swats either. Every punch was like a pickup truck crashing into a brick wall, causing more cracks in the shell that he had to seal with more energy. It forced Green Lantern to heighten his focus and direct more energy into the dome.

Not knowing much about this conflict, he could only assume it was serious. Batman told him a lot of innocent people were at risk. He even told him about some of the atrocities he witnessed in Kasnia. Having seen more than his share with the Green Lantern Corp, he had every incentive to prevent it here on Earth.

As Green Lantern strengthened the energy dome with his power ring, Batman flew in lower in the Batwing to assess the barrier. For the moment, it appeared to be holding. He saw every unit of the Doomsday Legion fighting tenaciously to break through and carry out the atrocities. He had no idea how long Green Lantern could keep this up. He didn't even know how the battle inside the museum was going. For all he knew, Superman and Wonder Woman were outmatched.

However, he refused to believe that. This was too personal for Superman. And now that the Amazons were involved, it was personal for Wonder Woman as well. They were in the best possible position to defeat Tyr-El. They just needed time.

" _The barrier is holding. Keep it up, Lantern. Make it stronger if you can,"_ said Batman as he flew over the southern portion of the site.

"Easy for you to say – _way_ harder than it looks!" said Green Lantern, now holding onto his arm as he poured more energy into the barrier.

" _I can see the Amazons closing in. They should be able to distract at least part of the Legion. They're spread thin though so don't expect them to…"_

At that very moment, a loud burst of static echoed through the communication link. It was so loud that it momentarily disrupted Green Lantern's focus. He managed to recover before the dome over the museum broke, but given the encryption of these links, something had to be very wrong.

"Ahhh! Can you repeat that, Batman? What just happened? Should I _adjust_ my expectations?" asked Green Lantern as he tried to talk over the static.

Nothing went through at first. He just heard more loud static followed by jumbled messages.

"Lantern…on alert…signal…hacked…out of there!" said Batman in an urgent tone.

"Batman? Batman, come in!" yelled Green Lantern.

More static followed. Then, a very unexpected and unwelcome voice came in through the link.

"Attention Justice League. This is Lex Luthor. Your pathetic excuse for encryption has just been cracked. Consider this my unique way of telling you to step aside. The world no longer trusts you or Superman to stop this threat. Now, sit back and watch as humanity's greatest hero ends this alien threat once and for all!"

* * *

 **Up next: Blind Injustice**


	7. Blind Injustice

**Broken Legacy  
Chapter 7: Blind Injustice**

* * *

 **Metropolis Metropolitan Museum**

"Kill…you! Kill…me! Kill…you! Kill…me!"

This was the mantra of the hulking monstrosity that had once been Aleka, a proud and honorable Amazon. There was little left of that Amazon now. There was only this walking embodiment of Tyr-El's bloodlust and it was channeling every ounce of it towards Wonder Woman.

It made for one of the hardest, most heart-wrenching battles she had ever fought. With every punch Aleka threw, Wonder Woman's heart broke a little more. Their battle had already done plenty of damage to the surrounding wing. Aleka fought with the same reckless abandon she had in countless battles before, but fighting with Tyr-El's bloodlust made her even more tenacious.

Walls and floors cracked. Windows and displays shattered. Wonder Woman initially remained on the evasive. At first, she tried to recover the Blade of Artemis. However, Aleka wouldn't let her. She made sure this was a battle of blood, sweat, and fists.

Wonder Woman was willing to fight such a battle. She eventually stopped evading and countered Aleka's attacks, striking her at every opportunity. However, her form was more durable than any set of armor she ever wore. Her gray skin and spikey scales made it akin to fighting a slab of granite. While Aleka felt the impact of Wonder Woman's strikes, they did very little damage and only served to fuel Aleka's bloodlust.

' _It's getting worse. Whatever Tyr-El did to her – it's making her more vicious. She was already one of the most tenacious warriors on Themyscira. Now she's this…this beast! And I have to stop her. I may even have to end her.'_

It was a painful thought and one that made every one of Aleka's strikes sting a little more. Wonder Woman's reluctance to strike her sister led to her taking more than her share of shots, some of which sent her crashing into nearby displays. She immediately shook it off and tried to counter, but the pain of these attacks went beyond any physical wound.

At the same time, however, Wonder Woman could tell these same actions hurt Aleka even more. She actually saw tears in her eyes at times in between attacks. She clearly didn't want to do this. It clearly pained her with every passing moment. But she was compelled to attack her none-the-less – having been transformed into just another instrument for Tyr-El's atrocities.

"Kill…kill…please…kill!" growled Aleka as she wildly swung her fists at Wonder Woman.

"Please Aleka! Don't do this!" urged Wonder Woman as she narrowly evaded the attack. "Fight Tyr-El! not me!"

"Can't…fight! Must…kill you! Kill me!"

Her words turned to monstrous screeches as she tried to overpower Wonder Woman with another attack. This time, Wonder Woman had to strike back. She deflected an incoming kick and pulled off a nimble spin move, followed by a hard strike to the neck and head. It stunned Aleka's hulking form for only a brief moment. Wonder Woman tried to take advantage of it and struck her again, delivering a heavy uppercut and a punishing drop kick.

These hard strikes sent Aleka stumbling back, but also added to her bloodlust. Wonder Woman's next inclination was to launch her own attack. If she were any other enemy, she would've done so without hesitation. But Aleka was an Amazon and a sister. Even in this monstrous form, she couldn't bring herself to take her down. She knew she had to get through her. She had to aid Superman. However, she couldn't abandon her sister.

Remaining on the defensive, Wonder Woman prepared for another attack. She continued hissing and snarling like an enraged beast. This time, however, Aleka hesitated. More tears formed in her eyes – tears of blood that streamed down her pale, hardened face.

"Aleka…I know what he did to you. I know you did – what _he_ made you do to Dessa," said Wonder Woman.

Upon mentioning that name, Aleka clenched her fist and let out an even louder screech. It was as if she struck her harder than any attack would allow.

"What…I…did," seethed Aleka. "Must…kill!"

"He's _using_ you! _Manipulating_ you! Perverting everything Amazons stand for!" shouted Wonder Woman, trying to reach beyond the bloodlust. "You've always stood for those principles more than most. You'd slay every beast in Hades to protect the Amazons' honor! Well I need you to slay this beast that has consumed you!"

"Beast…must…kill!" she stammered, her legs now trembling under the strain.

"You can do it, Aleka! Stand with me! Together, we can take down Tyr-El! There's still time!"

Aleka continued to struggle, her muscles twitching in an ongoing struggle between the bloodlust and the honor she valued. Out of the corner of her eye, Wonder Woman saw the still-glowing Blade of Artemis that she had lost earlier. Across the museum, she could see the battle between Superman and Tyr-El getting ugly. She had to end this now, but she needed her sister's help.

For a moment, it seemed she had broken through. Wonder Woman dared to take a step closer. This proved to be a mistake. With another deafening screech, Aleka lunged at her and knocked her to the floor. She then pinned her with her cold, stony hands to the cracked concrete surface. The impact dazed Wonder Woman, but not enough to defeat her.

"Must…kill!" Aleka snarled.

"Please Aleka…you don't have to do this!" urged Wonder Woman as she struggled to break Aleka's grip.

"Must…kill…me!" she said. "I…ravaged our…sister. I…helped…that man. Cannot…fight his…control."

Her words shocked Wonder Woman. While still struggling under her grip, she saw a look of despair on her sister's face. The bloody tears that had stained her face finally stopped. She had accepted her fate. It made clear that this battle could only end in heartbreak.

"Diana…my sister…kill…me!" urged Aleka with great desperation.

"Aleka…don't," said Wonder Woman solemnly.

"Cannot…bear this…burden," she stammered. "Cannot…hurt…another. You can…end this. Please…kill me!"

She was begging for it, both with her words and her eyes. Wonder Woman, still stuck in her powerful grip, shook her head in dismay. This couldn't be how it ended. She had already seen one sister get ravaged. She couldn't let another one succumb to such a cruel fate.

All the while, time was running out. Superman still needed her help. There was no telling how much longer he could last in his underpowered form. It was an atrocity in its own right – being forced to kill a sister to save innocents. As Wonder Woman processed such a grim task, something strange happened to her corrupted sister.

While still within her grip, Aleka expression twitched erratically. The muscles around her face and neck tensed. Her head started jerking around, as though her own body began misfiring. This strange shift soon spread. She abruptly released her grip on Wonder Woman and stammered back.

"Aleka?" said a dazed Wonder Woman. "What is…"

"It…burns! Everything…inside me…burns!" she exclaimed.

This time there was no despair in her voice. There was only raw, unabated pain. She clenched her head and stumbled wildly about, barely able to stand on her feet. Wonder Woman also noticed her eyes flashing strangely – like a ticking time bomb just waiting to go off.

Shaking off whatever injuries Aleka had inflicted, Wonder Woman returned to her feet. That's when she noticed that this strange anomaly was felt by Superman and Tyr-El as well.

"Kal…no!" she gasped.

Their battle came very close to a bloody end. Tyr-El had his distant grandson on his back and at his mercy. After seeing one of Superman's allies contain the Doomsday Legion in a green dome of energy, he tried to finish off Superman before he could pull off any more tricks. Then, an unexpected agony consumed them both.

"Ahhhhh! Damn you…to the Phantom Zone…Kal-El!" exclaimed Tyr-El. "What…have you…done?"

"I…didn't…do this," groaned Superman, this pain quickly overshadowing his other injuries.

"Every cell…on fire!" grunted Tyr-El, now on his hands and knees in pain. "Like someone…burning my flesh! You…would resort…to such cowardice?"

"I told you! This…isn't…my doing!" said Superman, now barely able to crawl.

"Then…who? Who is doing this?"

* * *

 **Outside Museum – Moments Ago**

" _Lantern, get out of there now!"_ yelled Batman urgently through a communication link.

"What was that, Batman? You're breaking up!" said a confused and already-strained Green Lantern.

Only static followed. Green Lantern struggled to remain focused, keeping up the green energy dome containing the bloodthirsty units of the Doomsday Legion. But something wasn't right. Batman designed these communication links. There couldn't be this kind of interference unless something had gone very wrong.

As he tried to reactivate the link, Green Lantern felt something fly by him. Before he could even turn his head to identify it, he heard and all-too familiar voice.

"Out of my way, Lantern," said a very impatient Lex Luthor. "I don't want to miss the show!"

He didn't give Green Lantern a chance to further delay his triumph. He barely raised his hand to defend himself, but Luthor had already armed an energy blast in his Warsuit. In one concentrated burst, he hit Green Lantern with enough energy to flatten a freight train.

"Aagh!" he exclaimed as he was sent flying over the Metropolis skyline.

This punishing strike effectively took Green Lantern out of the fight, causing the green energy dome protecting the museum to fade. With his Warsuit now humming at full power, Lex flew down towards the surface to witness the fruits of his labor. Along the way, he heard a familiar static through his suit's communication system.

" _Luthor! What the hell are you doing?"_ demanded an irate Batman. _"That dome was the only thing keeping the Doomsday Legion from…"_

Lex had already heard enough. The Batman was just another feeble mind who couldn't process what he was doing.

"Get off this channel, Batman. You and your so-called Justice League have already lost this battle," he said through the link. "Now watch how a superior intellect wins the day!"

He immediately closed off the channel before Batman could respond. He saw the Batwing fly towards him briefly, but Lex skillfully evaded the high-speed aircraft. As soon as it flew past him, he turned around and fired another energy shot. The Batwing evaded a direct hit, but the shot still damaged one of the wings, which sent the aircraft into a tailspin.

"Correction. You'll have to watch from afar," taunted Lex.

He didn't bother making sure the Batwing crashed into a smoldering pile of metal. He had no doubt that Batman would survive. He actually preferred it. Lex wanted Batman and the rest of the Justice League to watch him defeat Superman and his alien menace.

With Batman and Green Lantern out of the way, Lex Luthor landed just beyond where Green Lantern's energy dome had stopped. Now, there was nothing preventing the hulking monstrosities of the Doomsday Legion from flying out in all directions to commit untold atrocities.

"New flesh!" hissed one of the creature that saw Luthor.

"Attack! Maim! Kill!" exclaimed another.

"No! Don't let them through, Amazons!" ordered Philippus, her Amazon army still struggling to hold them back.

The Amazon armies tried to form a phalanx in front of the hulking creatures. It only slowed the Doomsday Unit. They had no hope of stopping them.

Lex was not at all surprised when he saw several monstrous brutes break through the phalanx with minimal effort. It scattered the Amazons while injuring more htan a few. However, he remained unafraid. Unlike the Amazons, he understood that stopping a threat like this required a superior intellect, as well as an indomitable will.

"You've done your part, Amazons…futile as it might have been," said Lex. "Let me show you how one powerful mind can defeat any powerful army."

Brimming with confidence and an unmatched ego, Lex casually stood in the center of a road that led right towards the front door of the museum. He let the menacing brutes of the Doomsday Legion fly towards him, hissing and seething with inhuman bloodlust. A lesser man would've been terrorized. Lex Luthor, being more superior in every way, didn't break a sweat. He just waited until just the right moment to flex his superiority.

"Superman, I hope you feel this – although it's _far_ less than you deserve," he said under his breath.

As the Doomsday Legion closed in, he casually entered a few commands on the wrist computer of his Warsuit. This activated the special modifications he made just for this momentous occasion.

It began with a sudden surge of energy that flowed to every circuit within the Warsuit. Within seconds, Lex was surrounded in a greenish-yellow energy that was so intense it caused the pavement under his feet to crack. Then, as this energy escalated, the chest panel in the Warsuit opened to reveal the source. Once it got to a certain point, it affected every unit in the Doomsday Legion simultaneously.

"Arrggghhhh! Burns! It…burns!" the creatures cried out.

To the inferior and the unenlightened, it seemed like magic. With one simple gesture, Lex had reduced these monstrosities to a bunch of writhing animals begging to be put down. Every one of them, including those on the other side of the building, collapsed under the weight of this unexpected agony. It was so intense that they could barely stand, let alone threaten an innocent human.

One of them made it within inches of Lex's feet. Still surrounded by this unique blend of energy, he grinned and casually spit on the face of this beast.

"Pathetic!" he said. "You want to ravage mankind and raze our planet? You're welcome to try, but I can make it hurt…a _lot_!"

Showing no mercy towards these creatures, Lex reached into his chest panel and pulled out the special data crystal that led him to this triumph. The energy of this crystal had been incorporated into the energy from the purified kryptonite that powered his Warsuit. It now glowed steadily, radiating an energy that affected anything with Kryptonian DNA. But it didn't stop at causing unmitigated pain.

As Lex held up the crystal, he noticed the hulking flesh of the beasts warping. Large scabs formed, tumor-like growths appeared all over the body, and muscles strained under the weight of this pain. It was a more pronounced effect than he expected, but one that offered a promising sign for Superman's fate.

"Hmm…it would seem your alien flesh is inherently unstable," said Lex as he watched the creatures suffer. "It's either sloppy science or someone else tried to manipulate your flesh as well. They just did a very poor job of it. I'd pity you hapless creatures, but I'll save my pity for someone who deserves it."

Eager to proceed with his triumphs, Lex casually stepped over the writhing creatures – ignoring their pained cries every step of the way. As he made his way towards the entrance to the museum, he encountered the confused and beleaguered Amazons. They had taken quite a beating while battling the Doomsday Legion, but they were still on their feet and ready to battle. Lex hadn't planned on the Amazons' involvement, but he didn't expect them to be a major obstacle.

"Who are you? What did you do to these beasts?" demanded Philippus, approaching Luthor while her sisters took a defensive stance.

"You're welcome," said Lex casually, "but if you wish to thank me, step aside."

"I don't know who you think you are, but Amazons don't take orders from men."

"It wasn't an order. It was a _warning_ ," said Lex. "I need to get inside that building. I don't want to miss a second of Superman and Tyr-El's suffering."

Insulted by such a threat, Philippus got in front of him and held up her shield – ready to stop this man from achieving the triumph he sought.

"You _dare_ threaten me and my sisters? Just to watch others suffer?" yelled the Amazon General.

"I just single-handedly defeated an army that your sisters could not. So yes, I _dare_!" said Lex. "In fact, I'll do you one better."

Lex covertly entered another command into his Warsuit and held up the still-glowing data crystal. The crystal then let out a series of pulse-like flashes, which momentarily distracted Philippus and the rest of the Amazons standing in front of him. They would soon regret such a predictable response because the Doomsday Legion had a much stronger reaction.

"Errrr! Follow the…pain!" the hulking beasts screeched.

"By the gods…" gasped one of the Amazons who noticed this reaction far too late.

Like obedient pets reacting to the command of a competent owner, every unit in the Doomsday Legion shot up from the ground and grabbed any Amazon within reaching distance. Those that weren't in reaching distance flew over or crawled – whichever method proved quicker – and piled onto each warrior. They didn't try to attack. They didn't try to torture or rape. They just grabbed onto them and held them down with a death grip. The same energy that put them in a world of pain now directed their bodies against their will.

"Let go, foul beasts!" shouted one Amazon who tried to fight them off.

"Their grip…like a corpse!" yelled another.

"Fight them, Amazons!" ordered Philippus. "Don't let them-aaggh!"

The Amazon General issued no further orders as multiple creatures pulled her to the ground and pinned her to the pavement. She, as well as the rest of her sisters, attempted to break free from these beasts' grip. Some managed to evade the first grabs, but they couldn't avoid the next several that followed.

In less than a minute, every Amazon had been effectively subdued and Lex still hadn't broken a sweat. He watched with a half-grin as the Amazons struggled to fight off these creatures. They would likely succeed if given enough time. It didn't matter though. The path to his triumph was now clear.

"Don't worry. They won't do anything other than cling to you while their flesh necrotizes," said Lex as he casually stepped over Philippus. "By my calculations, they'll be mere corpses in precisely 13 minutes and 57 seconds. I could have them do so many horrible things to you in that time, but I'm better than that. I'm _human_."

"Errr! You…arrogant…bastard of a man!" spat Philippus, her arms and legs now being held by several screeching creatures.

"That arrogance is what allowed me to conjure a means of manipulating these creatures. I had hoped to use them to make Superman's defeat more memorable, but I'm more than happy to use my bare hands. This time, there's no need for arrogance. I didn't just defeat him. I've _destroyed_ his legacy!"

Philippus tried to curse him more, but her words were muffled by the rotting hand of another creature. There were no more obstacles in his way. Clenching the glowing crystal that he created with his genius, Lex Luthor entered the museum where a new legacy awaited.

* * *

 **Metropolis Metropolitan Museum – Present Time**

There had been many moments in his struggles where Superman had been overwhelmed by the challenge of standing for truth, justice, and the American Way. It wasn't supposed to be easy, but being Superman meant having the strength and courage to stand for those values in the face of such challenges. However, few challenges had ever been as daunting as Lex Luthor.

He had battled other aliens. He had battled powerful machines. He had even battled gods, demons, and creatures of magic. None had ever come close to challenging him like Lex Luthor. He might have been a man, but his capacity for uncanny resourcefulness and ruthless cunning set him apart. Now, Superman had to battle this man while at his absolute weakest.

"Well isn't this a historic treat?" said Lex as he stormed through the front door. "An entire exhibit dedicated to the legacy of Krypton – complete with a perfect account of how it came its brutal end."

"Lex! What…have you done?" grunted Superman through the pain, barely holding himself up with his arms.

"Isn't it obvious, Superman? I'm reveling in the truth that you so cherish – the truth that the legacy of Krypton should've ended _ages_ ago."

Superman could feel Lex's snide grin as he approached in his Warsuit. With every step he took, the burning pain that had consumed him and Tyr-El escalated. They both remained on the floor, trying to get back on their feet. Between the injuries they sustained fighting one another and the pain caused by whatever Lex had done, they were in no condition to oppose this man. They were completely at his mercy.

"My blood – that energy – the crystal – you've corrupted it!" spat Tyr-El, his hatred now directed towards Lex Luthor.

"Corrupted? Hardly," scoffed Lex. "Exploited – well, you be the judge."

Lex held up the crystal so that it was right over Tyr-El and Superman. As its radiant light filled the area, they were both overwhelmed by another surge of pain. It was like every nerve in their body had been set ablaze and smothered in high explosives. They both writhed on the floor, groaning under the strain of such agony. Their every groan only added to Lex's satisfaction.

"Does it hurt a lot? Good. It damn well better!" said Lex as he hovered over the two wounded Kryptonians. "That pain you feel is a product of my genius. It didn't require immense strength, enhanced senses, or high-speed flight to achieve. It only needed only my superior intellect and the utmost dedication to the human race."

He then lowered the crystal, allowing Superman and Tyr-El to catch their breath. As satisfying as it was tormenting these powerful beings, he needed them conscious and coherent. They had to know who had defeated them.

"You thought your Fortress was unhackable, Superman. _I_ hacked it," Lex continued. "You thought your Doomsday Legion was unstoppable, Tyr-El. _I_ stopped it. And I did it by turning your own technology against you – the same technology you selfishly horded."

He demonstrated his mastery of this technology, using his Warsuit to adjust the energy radiating from the crystal. In doing so, he triggered a different kind of reaction in Superman and Tyr-El. Their muscles tensed, cramping up in a way that caused them to keel over and fall on their backs. He couldn't control them like he did the Doomsday Legion, but he could prove just how little their powers mattered in the face of his genius.

It was like the effects of Kryptonite were being directly guided by Lex Luthor's whim. Beyond the pain, it created a very sick feeling. Lex Luthor had exploited Superman's weakness to Kryptonite before, but never like this. For Tyr-El, it was an unfamiliar and agonizing feeling.

"You…sniveling…primate!" spat Tyr-El. "When I…get my…hands on you...I'll-AAHHHH!"

"Quiet, alien!" said Lex as he silenced Tyr-El with another surge. "You've tormented your last human. You can't escape this fate any more than you can escape your own biology."

"Lex…I'm all for stopping Tyr-El," said Superman, "but you have to-AHHHHH!"

"That goes _double_ for you, Superman!" he said, sending a similar surge through him as well. "As I speak, the energy from this data crystal is entangling itself with the energy from the kryptonite in my Warsuit. I've calibrated it in such a manner that I can channel this energy into anything with Kryptonian DNA. And since your vulnerability to kryptonite doesn't disappear with your powers, you and your army of brutes will feel its effects. Every cell – every chromosome – every strand of DNA – I can _disintegrate_ it at an atomic level. Think of it as nature's ultimate failsafe – a kill-switch for beings whose power exceeds their ability to earn it."

It was a cruel as it was effective. Lex Luthor had in his hand, quite literally, the perfect weapon against Kryptonians. As Superman gazed up into the yellowish-green light radiating from the crystal, he felt its energy hit him at every level of his being – circumventing defense and draining him of what little strength he had left. It shouldn't have been possible. Even the effects of kryptonite had its limits, but once again, Luthor found a way to bend the rules in his favor.

"It's…not…possible!" said Tyr-El, fighting the effects to no avail.

"You know it's funny. _I_ didn't even know how possible it was, even after I hacked Superman's Fortress," said Lex with a humored grin. "I only intended to expose Superman for the fraud he was. The data on Kryptonian genetics and ways to exploit it – well, the information was there, but only a superior intellect could make use of it. So that's what I did. And the many bloodstains on your alien legacy only made my efforts more necessary. Talk to any human who read about the Clan of El's atrocities. Or just talk to anyone who feels _anxious_ about a powerful alien pretending to embody mankind's greatest values. I imagine plenty would approve of my efforts."

"Until…you _exploit_ them," said Superman.

"What you call exploitation, I call the inevitability of cold, hard logic," quipped Lex. "It was only a matter of time before your fraud was exposed. And it was only a matter of time before all this unearned, undeserved power revealed its flaws."

"Unearned? Undeserved?" seethed Tyr-El. "You dare-agghhh!"

"I'll tell you the same thing I told the Amazons. Yes! I _dare_!" said Lex Luthor assertively as he hit Tyr-El with another surge. "I _dare_ to be humanity's greatest champion. I _dare_ to use my genius to earn my rightful place. And on this day…I _dare_ to end Krypton's legacy once and for all!"

Tyr-El let out another pained groan as he struggled to fight the effects of Luthor's crystal. He fought through injury and weakness, tapping into every ounce of bloodlust and rage. He only managed to crawl a few feet closer to Lex Luthor's feet. With ease, Lex kicked him in the face to knock him on his back, throwing in a smug grin.

Superman chose to conserve his strength and not give Luthor the satisfaction. He remained on his hands and knees, gasping for air and fighting the burning pain that had consumed his body. This didn't stop Luthor from walking past Tyr-El's wounded form and standing over the Man of Steel, casting his ominous shadow over him.

"I know I should start with that monster you call family. He _did_ rape a woman and slaughter dozens of innocents after all," said Lex as he glared down at his nemesis, "but I worry you might take too much satisfaction in seeing him die. I also figure he'll feel even _more_ pathetic watching someone other than himself kill his grandson. That makes the choice obvious."

Still grinning intently, Lex reached down and grabbed Superman by the neck with his Warsuit. He then effortlessly lifted him up so that he could look him in the eye when he ended him once and for all. He also placed the glowing crystal back in his chest compartment, allowing its light to mix with that of the kryptonite – bathing the Man of Steel in a deathly glow. In addition, he made sure Tyr-El could see what he was about to do.

"Your end…will be…a painful one!" said Tyr-El in his weakened tone. "You…and the rest of your pathetic race…will suffer!"

"Shut up, you alien farce!" spat Lex, still locked on Superman's weakened form. "Your race had its chance and you failed _spectacularly_. In a ways, I should thank you. Because of Superman's fraud and your atrocities, your deaths will be _celebrated_! As far as the rest of the world knows, you two were going to kill each other and take many innocent lives with you. I just came in and finished the job before anyone else got hurt. Your legacy will be a bloody stain that future generations will look upon with disgust. My legacy, on the other hand – well, let's just say I'm laying the right foundation."

Lex really had everything figured out. He already knew how this would play out and how he was going to spin it in the eyes of the people. He would come off as a hero while Superman's tarnished legacy would cloud over all the good he did. In terms of besting him, Lex Luthor couldn't have hoped for a better outcome.

As his body hung limply within Lex Luthor's powerful grip, Superman saw the legacy Lex sought in his eyes. It was a legacy built on deceit, injustice, and one man's bloated ego. Everything from the Justice League to the very concept of justice itself would be undermined. He couldn't let Lex Luthor build that legacy. However, he was powerless to stop him.

"Any last words from mankind's phony savior?" said Lex as he prepared to snap Superman's neck.

Despite his weakened state, Superman said nothing to an increasingly confident Lex Luthor. Instead, he shot him a half-grin. It confused Lex Luthor for a brief moment, which was just what he needed.

"Yeah…duck," said the Man of Steel.

"What?" said Lex in a rare moment of confusion.

He got his answer in the form of a determined battle cry from across the museum.

"Let him go!" yelled a very angry Wonder Woman, once again wielding the Blade of Artemis.

Lex turned his head just in time to see the Amazon warrior flying towards him at high speeds. He immediately put up his arm and used his Warsuit to form a yellowish energy shield, barely blocking the incoming strike. It still hit with such force that Lex stumbled back, almost dropping Superman in the process. However, he managed to hold onto while pushing back against Wonder Woman.

"You!" spat Lex. "Another phony icon of justice thinks she can stop the inevitable?"

"Maybe you haven't noticed, but kryptonite doesn't affect Amazons!" said Wonder Woman.

To prove her point, she launched another attack with the Blade of Artemis – slashing and hacking away at the energy shield keeping her from Lex. The battle with Aleka had left her plenty sore and bruised. However, she still had plenty of strength to take down Lex Luthor and save Superman.

She left Aleka behind and retrieved the discarded Blade of Artemis, knowing she might be the only one left who could stop Luthor. She didn't see any of her fellow Amazons returning from outside. She assumed the Doomsday Legion kept them occupied. The source of their struggle, Aleka's unexpected agony, and Superman's current state came down to _this_ man. There were some men whose evil deeds deserved compassion and understanding. Lex Luthor was _not_ one of them.

"Your greed…your deceit…your insufferable, selfish ego…it ends now!" yelled Wonder Woman in between slashes.

Ignoring whatever injuries she sustained against Aleka, she chipped away at Lex's defenses. The energy shield generated by his suit began warping under the strain. Lex's Warsuit shared some of the strain, putting him on his heels as he tried to hold her back while not letting go of Superman.

The frustration escalated, but Lex remained undaunted. Eventually, he managed to push back with his Warsuit's energy shield, preventing Wonder Woman from driving him back too far. This suit had been built to do battle with Superman. Wonder Woman's strength was comparable to his. However, she was more warrior than boy scout. She made it clear that she was willing to fight through any barrier he put up to get to him.

"You can't hide behind that fancy armor forever, Luthor!" spat Wonder Woman.

"Madam, I don't _need_ to hide," said Lex with a sneer.

She tried delivering the final blow to shatter his energy shield. Lex managed to keep it active and push back. With Wonder Woman showing no signs of letting up, they settled into a stalemate. It gave Lex Luthor just enough time to make his move.

"Tyr-El…do you mind?" he said casually.

"Hrrrr! Damn you!" exclaimed the old Kryptonian.

In her determination to free Superman, Wonder Woman forgot about Tyr-El. By the time she heard his angry cry, it was too late. Just as he did with Aleka and the Doomsday Legion, Lex used the data crystal in his chest to direct Tyr-El's bloodlust towards Wonder Woman.

Despite his pained, wounded state, the influence of the crystal forced him back onto his feet. He then charged towards Wonder Woman and blindsided her with a tackle, knocking her to the floor and causing her to drop the Blade of Artemis.

"No!" exclaimed Wonder Woman as she watched the glowing sword slide across the floor.

"I'd say this makes us even, but I prefer _not_ to fight fair," said Lex.

Before Wonder Woman could retrieve the blade, Lex used the oversized foot of his Warsuit to pin her to the floor. He stomped on her with extra force, causing a miniature crater around her. Had she not taken such a beating from Aleka, she might have been able to push him off. However, in her current state, she didn't have the strength.

Superman's last hope had failed. Wonder Woman was down. Tyr-El, having been forced to attack in his wounded state, now lay flat on his back and barely conscious. Lex had every intention of dealing with the both of them. But first, he had to deal with Superman.

Having never lost his grip on his neck, he held Superman up again. The Man of Steel remained conscious, having watched Wonder Woman's attack fail. This time, there was no coy grin or last trick. This time, he could only hold his head low and await Lex Luthor's wrath.

"Superman…I'm sorry," said Wonder Woman, still trapped under Luthor's foot.

"Quiet, pestilent bitch!" spat Luthor. "I'll get to you soon enough."

"Don't…call her that," said Superman weakly as he glared angrily at Lex.

"Or what?" scoffed Luthor. "Face it, Superman! You _failed_. You're out of power – out of tricks – out of lies. Your _bitch_ can't save you. Your friends can't save you. Nothing can save you! Now, you die!"

This was really happening. Superman was going to die at Lex Luthor's hands. For all the overwhelming threats he had faced, could his ultimate defeat really come at the hands of this ordinary, egotistical man?

Superman braced himself. He could feel the grip on his neck tightening. Then, for reasons that shocked even Luthor, it stopped. The hulking hand of Lex Luthor's Warsuit let up, releasing his grip on Superman so that he fell limply to the ground. However, it wasn't because Lex wanted to. Within this advanced metal suit that Lex created with his bare hands, multiple systems malfunctioned and sparks shot out from multiple areas

"What? No! Not now!" he exclaimed. "What the hell did you do, alien?"

"Nothing," said Superman, both relieved and confused by this sudden turn of events. "I didn't do this."

"You lie!" yelled Luthor. "This suit is my greatest creation! It shouldn't – it _can't_ malfunction! It's…it's impossible!"

* * *

 **Earlier**

Lois Lane had confronted her father at bad times before. She might have been the only one on this planet who dared to stand in front of General Sam Lane when he was angry, impatient, or upset. She might also be the only one who could get through to him when he set his sights on an important mission. However, this was one instance where being Sam Lane's daughter might not be enough.

"Lois, you've picked the worst time _imaginable_ to pull a stunt like this," said a very irate and conflicted Sam Lane.

"Wait till the end of the year and get back to me. This might not be the worst, but I'm sure it'll be top five," said Lois, having since purged all traces of fear and uncertainty in her voice.

"You really should stop pushing it. A father can only do so much for his daughter."

"You've already let someone else push you over the edge. I'd say we're past that point. Now are you going to do it or not?"

The air was tense and getting worse with each passing second. Lois and her father had been staring each other down since she effectively halted the convoy heading out of the Lexcorp Military Hospital. She demanded to speak with him and like any hopelessly dedicated father, he played right into her hands. Now, she put him in a situation that neither a father nor a General was equipped to handle.

Almost immediately after confronting him, he had a contingent of military police escort them into an enclosed troop transport so they could talk in private. The evacuation of the facility continued. However, he and Lois remained behind with a very small continent of officers. They remained parked in the transport just outside the base, assuming Lex's people were monitoring every square inch of the site. It wouldn't have mattered if they had this conversation in Lex Luthor's bedroom. It still would've been a painfully hard conversation.

For what felt like a full hour, Lois berated and scolded him. He couldn't deny he deserved a good portion of it. She put into words all the reservations he had about trusting Lex Luthor. Hearing them out loud made it even worse, but it was the recourse and consequences of those reservations that made him reassess this sentiment.

"General – Dad – I've already gone into graphic detail why trusting Lex Luthor to handle a crisis is a bad idea," said Lois, becoming increasingly impatient with his inaction. "If this were a courtroom, the judge would've dismissed your case outright."

"You don't need to belabor it any further, Lois," replied General Lane, still deeply conflicted. "For once, we actually agree. Lex Luthor cannot be trusted. No matter the situation, he'll find a way to exploit it."

"And it doesn't matter how much you try to control the situation. He'll still exploit it because he's smarter than you – a _lot_ smarter," added Lois.

"You're still belaboring, Lois. And I don't appreciate it."

"I'll do it as much as I have to because like it or not, you might be the only one who can end this with _some_ semblance of justice."

"Now you're assuming too much."

"I don't have to assume with you. It's one of the few benefits of being your daughter. You're a soldier at heart, General Lane. You _never_ trust anyone implicitly to complete a mission for you. You always have a failsafe to protect your own ass in case it goes south. Even when you're confident in the mission, you have a failsafe. Look me in the eye and tell me you're _that_ confident in Lex Luthor."

She then gave him that look she knew he hated. General Lane didn't flinch in the presence of presidents, kings, dictators, and warlords. However, Lois had this uncanny talent to make him falter. She just loved to hit him over the head with the cold hard truth, ignoring context and circumstances. There were any number of context and circumstances to this mission. None of them could withstand Lois Lane's security.

He ended up diverting his gaze from her, which effectively answered Lois' question. She then folded her arms and gave him another smug glare. He hated that look almost as much. There wasn't much left for her to say, but that never stopped her before.

"I thought so," she said flatly.

"Lois, quit talking down to me and think about the implications here," said General Lane. "You weren't there when I found Major Lee in that desert – beaten, mutilated, and raped. Every second Tyr-El goes unopposed puts others like her in danger."

"So you trust Lex Luthor to stop him and _not_ screw you over?" retorted Lois.

"I trust that his massive ego and unmatched xenophobia will give him the right incentives. I know he's going to exploit the hell out of this crisis if he succeeds. I may go down in history as the man who unleashed the worst of Lex Luthor on this world. But if his worst can stop Tyr-El, I'm willing to take that chance."

"Could you possibly say that with less confidence?" said Lois dryly.

"Like it or not, it's the only chance we have. If I do anything to undermine it – anything that might keep Luthor from defeating this monster – then any atrocity he commits from here on out will be on _me_."

This time, she didn't berate his excuses. Even she could see the merit to his concerns. He wanted to stop Tyr-El and his brutal atrocities. The thought that he might be responsible if Luthor failed – that he couldn't stop this monster when he had the chance – it was too great a burden to bear. He had already taken a huge risk in trusting Lex Luthor. Any other decision at this point only added to that risk.

Lois didn't often sympathize with her father. His past actions involving Superman made it difficult at best. She was basically asking him to humble himself and make the hardest possible decision – to do the right thing when the potential consequences were so great. It was the kind of situation that she had seen Superman face time and again. Now, she needed her father to follow his example.

She shot him another look. This time, she didn't scold or berate him. She just looked at him the same way she used to as a child – the same way she did when the only truth that mattered was them being family. He eventually stopped avoiding her gaze, but his expression once again hardened.

"Earlier this year, Interpol raided one of Lex's biggest operations. We couldn't arrest him, but we did manage to shut down one of his secret facilities – specifically one where he kept his Warsuit," said General Lane.

"I remember. I reported on that raid," said Lois. "Please tell me there's more to the story."

"There is," he affirmed. "Their people shipped that suit to one of our research facilities with STAR Labs. We tasked them with analyzing the suit and reverse-engineering the technology."

"Since your soldiers aren't stopping through war zones in giant mech suits, I'm assuming they failed," surmised Lois.

"For the most part, they did," said the General. "Lex put in all sorts of failsafes to keep anyone other than him from using that technology. Like you said – he's smarter than us. However, I know some pretty smart people as well. One of them managed to install a little something _extra_ in that suit."

"How much extra?" asked Lois intently.

"Not enough to stop him in his tracks," he answered. "It might not even be enough to disable him, but at the very least it would _frustrate_ him."

It wasn't what Lois had hoped for. Then again, she learned not to have unreasonable expectations when it came to stopping Lex Luthor. Aside from Superman, he could outsmart anybody, including the United States military. That made whatever her father managed a long shot at best. In her experience though, a long shot was better than none at all.

"When a man has an ego like Lex Luthor, frustration is sometimes all it takes," said Lois.

"You're still assuming a lot, Lois. For one, you think I'm willing to actually use it. Second, you think it'll work. Third, you're assuming it'll make a difference. And last and most importantly, it might actually _help_ Tyr-El," said General Lane.

"Or…it could help Superman defeat both Tyr-El _and_ Lex Luthor. Wouldn't that be the best possible scenario?"

"You _still_ trust him?"

"Do you trust Lex Luthor?" she quipped with folded arms.

General Lane responded with stern silence, which had always been his special way of avoiding the truth. He was good at that and it was a major reason why they had become so distant. This time, the truth wasn't as important as choice. And right now, Lois had to convince her father to make the hardest possible choice.

"I know you don't like to take chances, General," she said. "You prefer playing it safe, getting the mission done no matter what the cost. This is one mission nobody can afford to fail – not you – not Superman. I know you've never bought into his message of truth, justice, and above all…hope. But if ever there was a time when we needed hope – from Tyr-El – from Lex Luthor – _this_ is it. You can either be the one who took a chance on it or the one who pissed it all away. Which would you rather have as your legacy?"

Lois was only a few steps away from begging. Her father had always been an unreasonable man, especially when it came to Superman. This time, Sam Lane had the power to preserve the truth, justice, and hope that he stood for.

This was not a power that General Lane cared to exercise. Under his daughter's penetrating gaze, all the training and discipline that made him a proud soldier and officer faltered. His every tactical instinct told him not to take this chance – to make sure Lex Luthor stopped Tyr-El, even if it meant the death of Superman. However, a world where Lex Luthor could claim to be humanity's savior did not inspire much hope to say the least. That couldn't be his legacy. He couldn't be the man who just stood by and let hope die.

So against his better instincts as a General, Sam Lane made his decision. He didn't say a word to Lois. He just got up, knocked firmly on the back door to the troop transport, and waited for the Colonel.

"Yes, sir?" answered the Colonel with several military police behind him.

"Colonel, send the word out. I'm implementing the Shadow Protocols," he said.

The officer almost sounded relieved when he heard this. Lois could tell that she wasn't the only one who had reservations about trusting Lex Luthor to stop Tyr-El. It meant for once, she could be proud of her father.

"I'll get the interface," said the Colonel. "Lieutenant, get your ass over here!"

While the soldiers and officers outside scrambled, General Lane just sat back down across from his daughter. His expression didn't change. He didn't let show his many reservations about this choice. It didn't matter though. Lois got the message and cast her father a grateful smile – the first he had seen in a long time.

He almost forgot what Lois looked like when she smiled. He tried not to let it affect him too much. He had made his decision. Now he had to see it through.

Within seconds, a female officer game into the transport carrying an unmarked briefcase. She then quickly opened it and set it in front of the General, revealing a small laptop with a series of command prompts.

"The Colonel's on the phone with the NSA as we speak," said the officer. "It'll take just two minutes to activate the signal. After that, it's just a matter of when you want it to transmit."

"Then I better time it right," said General Lane. "Do we still have a drone monitoring the Warsuit?"

"We actually have _several_ and a few satellites for good measure," she said. "Last we checked he's heading towards Metropolis."

"Good. Send me a live feed. I'll trigger the last protocol once it's ready."

"Yes sir!"

General Lane cast his daughter one last glance. She was still smiling. He tried not to show how much it affected him, but he failed miserably. He didn't mind though. This was one part of the mission he was okay with failing. The next part could not fail. His legacy, as well as that of Superman and all of mankind, hung in the balance.

* * *

 **Present Time**

It was happening again. Lex Luthor had come so close to ending Superman and cementing his superiority for all of mankind. He literally had triumph in his hands. Now, his Warsuit was failing at the worst possible time.

"I…will…kill you!" exclaimed Lex Luthor, seething with intent as he stared down a weakened Superman.

But it wasn't happening. He kept giving the command to snap Superman's neck and crush Wonder Woman under his foot, but it wasn't responding. His Warsuit was still functional. The systems were working. They just weren't processing his commands.

Data readings within his suit were going haywire. That shouldn't have been possible. He made sure his Warsuit couldn't be tampered with by anyone except him. There was no way General Lane or the stooges he employed in the Pentagon could hack it. Why would he even try? He knew the risks of letting Superman and Tyr-El live. It didn't make sense. Even with his genius mind, it didn't make sense.

The sudden failure of his Warsuit gave Superman some much needed breathing room. It also gave Wonder Woman the chance she needed to escape from under Luthor's oversized foot. Summoning the strength of an Amazon, she pushed up against the Warsuit's foot.

"Gods…give me strength!" said Wonder Woman.

She got the strength she asked for and then some. She ended up pushed with such force that it threw Luthor off-balance. Since he had yet to reassert control of his Warsuit, he fell flat on his back, dropping Superman in the process.

"NOOO!" exclaimed Lex as he watched his ultimate triumph literally slip out of his hands.

Both he and Superman landed on the floor with a hard thud. As soon as she was on her feet, Wonder Woman immediately rushed to Superman's aid. He was still battered, bruised, and in a great deal of pain. But he was still conscious and still very much determined to end this.

With her help, Superman returned to his feet. The burning caused by Luthor's crystal had subsided, but he could still feel its influence. Before he could resolve anything with Tyr-El and Krypton's legacy, he had to take care of this.

"I…don't know what just happened," said the Man of Steel as he caught his breath, "but…I'm going to make the most of it."

"Let Batman figure it out," said Wonder Woman, her gaze narrowing on Luthor. "The fates have turned against him. We must make sure it stays out of his hands."

"And we will."

Superman shook off Wonder Woman's support so he could stand on his own. The many injuries he sustained were still apparent. Parts of his face and legs were swollen. Bruises and cuts covered his face and torso. He wasn't used to such pain, but he had learned to deal with all sorts of pain lately. He had also learned to channel it.

Fighting through this pain, he approached Luthor with Wonder Woman by his side. Along the way, he picked up the Blade of Artemis that she had dropped earlier. It was still glowing bright yellow from the solar energy it absorbed earlier. When he reached Luthor's side, he pointed the tip of the sword to the chest area of the suit. It marked the first time Luthor showed signs of fear.

"If you want to salvage your legacy _and_ mine…you'll end me right here," said Lex.

"You know me better than that, Luthor," said Superman. "I'm not going to kill you. I'm _not_ my ancestors."

"You still carry their blood – their burdens – their _inhumanity_. If you keep pretending to be something you're not – this icon among men – you'll only affirm your hypocrisy. And my resolve will only grow stronger!"

Superman looked over at Wonder Woman, who clearly felt more tempted to end this man where he lay. However, she just smiled and nodded – understanding what needed to be done and why.

"Then I guess my resolve will have to grow as well," said the Man of Steel.

As Lex continued to scold him in every way he could, Superman jammed the Blade of Artemis into the chamber in the chest of the Warsuit. Wars broke and sparks flew as the exotic metal of the suit warped under the power of the sword. He quickly cut through the layers of armored plating, exposing the purified kryptonite and the data crystal. Both were still glowing with the exotic energy that only Kryptonians could feel. He could still feel its effects, but Superman endured them. At a time when his legacy hung in the balance, he could do no less.

"Wonder Woman, would you like to do the honors?" asked Superman.

"Gladly," said Wonder Woman.

With the swords still in hand, Superman took a few steps back. Then, Wonder Woman stepped forward and reached into the Warsuit's chamber. Once she had the crystal and the kryptonite in hand, she ripped them out – tearing out several wires and larger hardware components in the process. This effectively cut the Warsuit's power, rendering it harmless and immobile while keeping Luthor trapped within it.

As the Warsuit powered down, Wonder Woman tossed the purified kryptonite across the museum so that it wouldn't affect Superman. However, she held onto the exotic data crystal for a brief moment. This crystal allowed Luthor to put Superman and everyone with Kryptonian blood in a world of pain. Such power wasn't easy to throw away.

"You might want to save this," said Wonder Woman. "It could be very dangerous. Any weapon that can paralyze Superman is one we need to keep from the Lex Luthor's of the world."

"Yes. By all means, hoard anything that might undermine Superman's power," said Luthor dryly. "Take away anything that might give us some leverage against an alien of unfathomable power."

"Shut up, Luthor! I can take your tongue as well for good measure!" said Wonder Woman.

"Let him keep it. We've taken enough," said Superman, now fixated on the crystal. "Besides, as disgusting as his words might be, they do have some semblance of truth."

This surprised Lex almost as much as it surprised Wonder Woman. Superman rarely gave Lex Luthor's xenophobic rhetoric any credence. He never had to because he always managed to prove Luthor wrong when tested. Tyr-El changed that. His presence and the revelations he brought with him changed a lot of things. He couldn't afford to ignore that change.

"I'll analyze the crystal later," said Superman. "I'll figure out what Luthor did, work out a countermeasure, and decide where to go from there. But we can't just bury this within the Justice League. We need to learn from it – to see it as an opportunity."

"How do you plan to do that?" asked Wonder Woman curiously.

"I don't know yet," he said, "but before we I anything, there's one important issue I have to resolve first."

Turning away from Lex Luthor, Superman narrowed his gaze on Tyr-El – the monster whose atrocities had destroyed the legacy of the House of El. This being with whom he shared an inescapable link embodied the very worst of his people. He brought that horror her to Earth, inflicting it on the people he sought to protect. Looking at this man, all those fine lines that the Man of Steel vowed he would not cross effectively disappeared.

As he walked up to Tyr-El's wounded form, he gripped the Blade of Artemis in anticipation. He then stood over the wounded old Kryptonian, casting an imposing shadow on him – a tactic that he had undoubtedly used against countless others. He attempted to move, but Superman would not show an ounce of mercy this time.

"Stay down," he said a harsh, firm tone.

He made sure Tyr-El listened by stomping on his chest, crushing rubs and adding to the numerous internal wounds he already had. Tyr-El let out a pained gasp as more blood seeped from his mouth. Apparently, the strain Luthor put on his body by having him attack Wonder Woman was too great. Between the injuries he sustained and his age, Tyr-El had run out of bloodlust.

"Kal-El – my distant grandson," said the old Kryptonian weakly. "Is this…really happening again? Am I…going to be undone…by my own family?"

"You're _not_ part of this family, Tyr-El. There is no Clan of El. There never was," said Superman. "It was only ever _you_."

"Is that…how you justify this? By denying…your very heritage?"

"I'm not denying anything. What you did in my family's name can _never_ be undone. I have to live with that – just as my father had to live with it. You claim to be the embodiment of our family's legacy, but you're not. You're an _abomination_."

"I…am a warrior. I dared to do…what needed to be done…for the glory of Krypton," said Tyr-El, still defiant in his wounded state.

"Call it whatever you want. It _failed_ ," said the Man of Steel definitively. "All that glory – it was gone even before Krypton was destroyed. You can't reclaim something that was never there to begin with, no matter how much blood you spill."

His harsh words did little to dissuade Tyr-El. He remained defiant and determined, willing to shed more blood. Superman put his foot on his chest and pressed down, damaging more bones and causing him to cough up more blood. Then, he pointed the tip of the Blade of Artemis right at his neck.

"But I know I can't convince you to stop," the Man of Steel continued. "No matter what I say, you're going to keep trying. Even if I throw you into another black hole, you'll find a way out. You'll try to recreate the Doomsday Legion. And you'll commit more atrocities. That means if I _don't_ kill you right here, I'm every bit as responsible for those atrocities."

"Then what are you waiting for, Kal-El?" taunted Tyr-El. "Go on! Do it! Do what your ancestors refused to do."

Twinging with anger, Superman pressed the tip of the glowing blade right up against his jugular. With the slightest movement, he could end this madman once and for all. But Tyr-El didn't seem to care. The thought of dying by the hands of his distant grandson didn't scare him in the slightest.

"You saw how their flawed sense of justice turned out," he added. "Are you bold enough to take a different path? If so, then maybe there is hope for the Clan of El's legacy."

His words added fuel to the fire that was burning inside. Superman had never felt such intense hatred for another being in his entire life. Everything he stood for – the values instilled in him by his biological and adopted family – it all became an afterthought in the presence of Tyr-El.

Superman had resisted the temptation to take a life many times before, but this time was different. He had met some pretty atrocious beings – human and non-human alike. Many deserved far worse than what he gave them. Tyr-El was in a league all his own.

He couldn't, in good conscious, let this monster live to commit another atrocity. At the same time, taking a life went against everything Superman, the Justice League, and his family stood for. He had never been this conflicted before about doing the right thing.

The muscles in his hand tensed. His heart raced as his emotions clouded his every thought. He was ready to make his fateful choice – one that would undoubtedly define Superman moving forward. But before he chose, he felt a gentle hand on his wrist. It belonged to Wonder Woman and under her touch, everything stopped.

"Kal…" she said in that deep, caring tone that made her Wonder Woman.

"Diana…don't," said Superman, his hand still trembling. "Don't make any more excuses for him."

"I'm not. There's no denying it. He's a monster. He murdered innocence, rapes women, and inspires terror. He deserves far worse than death. But is this – this isn't how to go about it. You're better than this."

"Am I?" he questioned. "No matter what I do, I'm throwing more dirt on my family's legacy."

"No. You're _Superman_ ," she said firmly, "and that's more important than any legacy."

Her grip on his hand strengthened. The sentiment conveyed through her touch washed over the blinding anger he felt towards Tyr-El. Like a splash of cold water, it jolted Superman back into a more balanced state. He saw what he was doing and what he felt inclined to do. He then looked over towards Wonder Woman, whose eyes conveyed even more sentiment than her touch. The message to him was loud and clear. Being Superman meant more to him than the legacy of the House of El.

With a solemn sigh, his grip on the Blade of Artemis loosened and he pulled the tip away from Tyr-El's neck. The old Kryptonian sneered at him, now more disgusted by his distant grandson than ever.

"Weak…pathetic…coward!" he said. "You let…a woman…hinder you?"

"No. Not sharing your insatiable bloodlust – that's not a hindrance," said Superman, "and besides, she's not just _any_ woman."

When he said these words, he conveyed a certain sentiment to Wonder Woman as well. Despite being so sore from her battle against Aleka and Lex Luthor, she smiled. There was a lot more to say, but now was not the time.

"You're a disgrace…to our kind!" said Tyr-El, still frothing with hate. "Because of you…Krypton is truly _dead_."

"And I accept that," said Superman. "The past is what it is. We can't change it. The harder we try, the more lines we cross."

"I spit…on your lines! I promise…if you spare me…I will _never_ stop! I will…reclaim our glory. I will…destroy you…in every way. I will ravage…everything…you hold dear…especially your woman!"

Wonder Woman's frowned angrily at the bloodied man, daring him to make such a threat again. Now she was tempted to end him. However, she restrained herself just as Superman had.

His unflinching hatred still presented a problem. Sparing him would not end his bloodlust. He had already committed horrendous atrocities on humans. He had also desecrated the blood of the Amazons. They didn't doubt for a second that Tyr-El was willing to do far worse. If they let him live, then he would find a way to inflict more torment. However, they couldn't reduce themselves to his bloody ways.

Superman and Wonder Woman exchanged glances, remaining conflicted about what to do. But after having been reminded of what it meant to be Superman – and after hearing such an outright threat against someone very close to him – he was determined to find a way.

He then noticed the glowing crystal that Wonder Woman was still holding. He remembered what Luthor had been able to do with it. In doing so, he surmised a way to give Tyr-El the justice he deserved.

"Hey Diana, you think your sisters are still tied up with the Doomsday Legion?" asked Superman.

"Since they haven't come bursting through the doors, I'd say so," replied Wonder Woman. "Why do you ask?"

"Give me Luthor's data crystal. I think they deserve a breather."

At first she didn't understand what he meant. Then, she saw that special glint in his eye. His face might be swollen and bruised, but she still saw it. As his intentions became clear, she grinned and handed him the crystal.

"You really think that'll work?" she asked.

"Only one way to find out," said Superman.

She gave him the data crystal and took a few steps back. Superman, now holding both the Blade of Artemis and the crystal, remained over Tyr-El. He kept his foot on his chest to keep him from struggling. He also began examining the crystal, feeling its unique energy. His powers weren't at full strength, but he was familiar enough with Kryptonian technology to figure it out. Once he did, Tyr-El's fate was sealed.

He held the crystal over Tyr-El, who was the only still confused at this point. He made sure his actions with the crystal were ambiguous so the old Kryptonian couldn't prepare himself. A series of distinct flashes from the crystal confirmed that it did what Superman wanted. From here on out, the fruits of Tyr-El's sins would administer an appropriate level of justice.

"It's done," Superman announced.

"Done? What…did you…do?" demanded Tyr-El.

Superman, with blood still dripping from his swollen face, just shot his distant grandfather a smug grin. He then removed his foot from Tyr-El's chest, allowing him to finally get a labored breath in. But just as he finally rose up, a round of deafening bursts echoed from the doors and windows of the museum. Dozens upon dozens of familiar figures came pouring inside.

"Kill…rape…destroy! Kill…rape…destroy!" said a chorus of angry voices.

These voices belonged to the angry, bloodthirsty monstrosities of the Doomsday Legion. They came pouring in from outside, going back on the order that Tyr-El gave him. Now, they all set their sights on him – their creator. This time, however, their eyes glowed with the distinct hue of the data crystal. It meant that the control he once had over them was no more.

"My legion…" said Tyr-El weakly.

"Isn't yours anymore," said Superman. "I removed the genetic controls you put on them. I'm guessing they didn't appreciate it."

Superman then casually stepped back and joined Wonder Woman again. The Doomsday Legion didn't even pay attention to him. They all gathered around Tyr-El – every last one of these perverse creations that he thought would bring glory to the Clan of El. Instead, they all glared at him with the same bloodlust he directed towards others.

As they closed in on Tyr-El, a contingent of Amazons ran in behind. Philippus once again led the charge. She and her Amazons had been beleaguered and frustrated by these abominations and were still inclined to fight.

"They're disoriented," said Philippus. "Now's the time to attack!"

"Stand down, Philippus," ordered Wonder Woman.

"What? But these creatures…"

"Are already defeated," she said. "Let them succumb on their terms."

More Amazons caught up, but Philippus obeyed her queen. She raised her hand to signal every Amazon to stand down. They all complied, keeping their shields and swords ready. Now, they too could witness this overdue justice on Tyr-El.

As the Doomsday Legion closed in, Tyr-El's blood went cold. He tried to get up, but his injuries would not let him. He just coughed up more blood and gazed up as his legion surrounded him. Most were already weakened and emaciated due to the effects of Lex Luthor's tampering. However, they still had plenty of strength to turn on their creator.

"Stop! I am…your blood! You are…my legacy!" exclaimed Tyr-El with growing desperation.

"Kill…rape…destroy! Kill…rape…destroy!" said each unit in perfect unison, as though this was the only language they knew.

"Kal-El! You dare…turn my creations…against me?"

"I didn't turn them against anyone. I just freed them," said Superman flatly. "They know they're dying. They also know who's responsible for all their suffering. You see, I don't have to bloody my own hands to end you, Tyr-El. I just need to make sure your own atrocities catch up with you."

Tyr-El shot Superman a look of unparalleled hatred. It was no use at this point. By then, the Doomsday Legion had reached him. As soon as one of them got their hands on him, the weight of his atrocities finally crushed him.

"No! NO! NOOO-AHHHHHH!" Tyr-El exclaimed.

His hate and outraged were quickly drowned out as the Doomsday Legion silenced Tyr-El once and for all. These seething monstrosities, which were decaying more rapidly with each passing second, tore into his wounded body without mercy – just as they had been conditioned. If this was to be their final atrocity, then they made sure it was befitting.

They started with his eyes. Two units literally clawed them out with their bare hands, creating a bloody mess on Tyr-El's face. He let out another pained scream, but was quickly silenced when another unit dug its body fingers into his throat, causing him to choke on his own blood. They then went for his genitals – the same he used to rape countless innocents. Several units tore it off, slowly and painfully. They even applied pressure to the bloody wound, making sure he stayed conscious long enough for them to shove it in his mouth to choke on.

From that moment forward, the units just grabbed whatever bit of flesh they could and ripped it off. The brutality, blood, and gore was every bit as extreme as Tyr-El had demonstrated. This time, however, he was on the wrong end of it. Even for the battle-hardened Amazons, it was a disgusting sight. Some even looked away. However, Superman and Wonder Woman didn't dare divert their gaze – if for no other reason than to make sure Tyr-El didn't escape.

Before long, there was nothing left of the bloodthirsty menace that had once terrorized Krypton's enemies – only a pool of blood, bone, and mangled flesh. That didn't stop the legion from tearing at it, clawing at Tyr-El's remnants until their last bit of strength escaped them. Even after that, the kept attacking – their hissing and screeching becoming more solemn. They all seemed to know they were dying and they would not stop until they drew their last breath.

"Kill…rape…destroy," they said weakly.

Eventually, their voices faded. Every unit in the Doomsday Legion fell silent and collapsed onto the floor. Their flesh continued rotting, turning dark black and dissolving into lumps of lifeless flesh. There was no more bloodlust in their eyes, but there was no sadness either. They had done what needed to be done. Now, they could die with some semblance of peace.

"They were hardly warriors, but they had Amazon blood," said Wonder Woman. "They may have committed atrocities, but they didn't deserve such a fate."

"They didn't have a choice. Tyr-El made sure of that," said Superman, "but I guess they inherited some of your peoples' honor. When they finally had a choice, they did what they thought was right."

It seemed fitting, albeit bittersweet. These perversions of Amazon and Kryptonian were supposed to be the instrument of Tyr-El's bloodlust. Instead, they were the ones that ultimately ended it.

As the finality of Tyr-El's end sank in, Superman's own injuries caught up with him. He was still without his powers. He still had plenty of wound and bruises to heal. He ended up having to lean on Wonder Woman, who didn't hesitate to support him.

"I think…my choices will be limited for the rest of the day," said Superman.

"Don't worry," said Wonder Woman. "You'll be back to pushing your limits soon enough. That's what makes you Superman."

"Among other things," he quipped.

The two shared a warm smile. This painful ordeal was over now and it was still sinking in. There would be plenty of aftermath to deal with – some official and some personal. But there would be plenty of time for that later and some moments couldn't come soon enough.

But as Superman continued leaning on Wonder Woman for support, his weakness did not go unnoticed. Lex Luthor, who had also watched the Doomsday Legion maim Tyr-El before decaying, saw that the Man of Steel was still vulnerable. He still needed time to regain the god-like power that made him the biggest fraud on this planet. That meant he still had a chance.

"He's still weak. He's still…human," said Lex under his breath. "If Krypton's bloody legacy must die her today – that means you die too!"

Summoning what remained of his strength, Lex hit the emergency latch on his Warsuit so he could escape manually. He then grabbed a nearby shard of metal from his suit that had been ripped off earlier. Now armed, he began crawling towards the Man of Steel – determined to see him meet Tyr-El's fate.

However, he barely got out of his suit before another presence came up behind him and struck him in the back of the head.

"That's far enough!" said a raspy voice.

"Ack!" gasped Lex.

His gasp drew the attention of Superman, Wonder Woman, and the Amazons. They all immediately turned around to see Lex lying on the floor face-down with an imposing figure hovering over him.

"Aleka!" exclaimed Wonder Woman.

"She's wounded. Summon a healer!" ordered Philippus.

"No. She's not wounded. It's worse than that," said Superman as he noticed her disposition.

With Lex Luthor now unconscious, Aleka's hulking form fell to the floor once more. Wonder Woman, Superman, and Philippus rushed to her side. Several other Amazons followed closely, but Philippus raised her hand to order them back. She recognized quickly that Aleka's condition was dire.

When Wonder Woman arrived, she immediately knelt down by Aleka's side. Philippus remained close by, giving Superman someone else to lean on while he stayed close. As Wonder Woman tried to help her sister up, the extent of her condition became clear. Like the rest of the Doomsday Legion, she was decaying.

"Aleka…" said Wonder Woman sadly.

"Diana…my queen," said Aleka in a weak voice. "Had to do…one last deed. Had to preserve…what's left of…my honor."

"You'll have a chance to do more," she replied. "We'll get you back to Themysicra! We'll summon Athena herself and…"

Aleka stopped her before she could continue, putting her hand up – showing that it had almost been reduced to bone. It affirmed what Wonder Woman already dreaded. He sister was dying.

"It's…too late for that," said Aleka.

"Don't say that, Aleka! It doesn't have to end like this!" said Wonder Woman, tears already forming in her eyes.

"But…it _should_ ," she said. "I…trusted that monster. I…aided him. I…raped a sister. If this is the price I must pay to atone…I pay it gladly."

Wonder Woman lightly grasped Aleka's hand and sobbed. She didn't want to believe it. She and Aleka may have clashed many times in the past, but she was still a sister. She treasured the honor of the Amazons more than most. She did not deserve such a fate, but she had already accepted it.

That fate was progressing fast. Her hulking body had already been reduced significantly. Large portions of her flesh had rotted off, turning black and frail. Muscles shrank, breathing became ragged, and the tenacity that made Aleka such a great warrior faded. It was harsh, cruel, and undeserving of any Amazon.

"Diana…" said Aleka as her strength rapidly faded.

"I'm here, sister," said Wonder Woman, maintaining her strength as best she could.

"Please tell Dessa…I'm sorry," said Aleka. "I will do my labors…in Hades. I will watch over her…in future battles."

"She's already forgiven you. You don't have to carry that burden."

"But…I _should_ ," she said strongly.

Once again, she affirmed what she knew to be right for her and the honor of the Amazons. It pained her heart just as much as it pained her sisters, but she still did it. Such sentiment struck Diana profoundly.

"I accept…my fate. I understand now," said Aleka. "The atrocities our sisters committed – the traditions we clung to – I understand."

"You always had a big heart, Aleka," said Wonder Woman with a weak smile, "even if you hid it within your warrior spirit."

"I should've known. We all…should've known. One atrocity…leads to another…and another…and another. It…must stop. It has…to stop."

Her strength was running out. The pain was growing. She let out a deep groan, her strength failing her at every turn. Yet in the light of pending death, she saw what other Amazons dared to see. It gave Wonder Woman a glint of hope about their sisters' future, albeit at a terrible price.

It wouldn't be much longer now. Her grip on Wonder Woman's hand was weakening. She had to make use of what little strength she had left.

"Hnn…death hurts…so much more…than battle," said Aleka.

"I'll stay with you, sister. I'll stay till the end," said Wonder Woman.

"No. I've inflicted enough cruelty…on my sisters," she said. "Please…give me the Blade of Artemis. Let me…end my life…on my terms…with honor."

It was a solemn request and one she didn't have much time to think about. She could see the growing agony on her sister's face. Her suffering would only escalate from here on out. There had been enough suffering today. It had to end.

Turning towards Superman, who still had the glowing Blade of Artemis in hand, he just nodded solemnly and gave her the sword. Philippus, who also had tears in her eyes, did the same. Aleka had made her choice. All they could do was honor it.

With a heavy heart, Wonder Woman put the Blade of Artemis in Aleka's weak hands. Her arm still trembled, her strength on the brink of failing. She channeled what little she had left, grabbing the blade with both hands and guiding the tip to her chest. This blade was meant to penetrate the armor of a titan so it could surely pierce the ribs of a dying woman.

"Thank you…my queen…my sister," said Aleka.

"Gods be with you, Aleka," said Wonder Woman sadly.

Having made her final peace, Aleka closed her eyes and roughly jammed the glowing blade into her chest. It pierced her flesh with ease, stabbing her right in the heart. The sick sound of flesh and bone breaking echoed through the damaged halls of the museum. This horrible sound was followed by a gargled gasp as Aleka drew her last breath. The final bit of life then left her body, making her the last victim of Tyr-El's atrocities.

With Aleka's body now limp and lifeless, Wonder Woman grasped her lifeless hand and let out one final sob for her sister. Philippus, as well as the Amazons who had witnessed what had happened, bowed their heads respectfully and prayed to the gods for their sisters' soul. More tears of sorrow formed in her eyes as she withdrew the Blade of Artemis and set it aside.

A solemn silence fell over the area as the damage and loss done by this conflict sank in. Superman offered Wonder Woman a comforting gesture, which she accepted without hesitation.

"She didn't deserve this. _Nobody_ deserved this," sobbed Wonder Woman.

"That's the thing about atrocities. _Nobody_ deserves them," said Superman.

"I know. It just… _disgusts_ me."

"They should," he said. "The fact that they do is a good thing. The day we become numb to atrocities is the day we lose our sense of justice."

Superman, partly due to his injuries and mostly out of compassion, knelt down and embraced Wonder Woman. Together, they out solemn, exasperated sigh. The atrocities of Tyr-El were finally over, but the scars he left were still forming. The extent of those scars was still unclear. But whatever hardships these scars brought, Superman and Wonder Woman were prepared to endure them.

* * *

 **Up next: Scars and Bonds**


	8. Scars and Bonds

**Broken Legacy  
Chapter 8: Scars and Bonds**

* * *

 **Themyscira – Graves of the Fallen**

Passions often ran high on Themyscira after a battle. Those passions were especially intense when a sister fell. If she died heroically and honorably, there would be celebrations in conjunction with the mourning. To die honorably in battle for her sisters was seen as the epitome of the Amazon sisterhood. This made the circumstances surrounding Aleka's death especially difficult.

' _This isn't how it should've been. You deserved better than this, Aleka. Our sisters deserved better.'_

These thoughts had been coursing through Diana's head since she returned to Themyscira. Those thoughts continued to plague her, even as she stood over the headstone that now bore Aleka's name. Standing over it now with the setting sun behind her, she shed another tear for her fallen sister. While the Amazons had won the day against Tyr-El and the Doomsday legion, nobody returned feeling victorious.

It all happened in a blur. After Aleka drew her last breath, Philippus directed her Amazon legion to tend to the body. Diana let them do their duty while she aided Clark, who still had significant injuries to go along with his lack of power. Using the same mystical portals that brought the Amazons to Metropolis, she opened one that allowed him to return to the Fortress of Solitude. While she initially offered to go with him, he convinced her that her sisters needed her more. Once again, Superman was right.

Upon returning to Themysicra, Diana was met by many anxious sisters. They all clamored for news about the man who corrupted one sister and aided in the rape of another. Being queen, she announced their victory in battle against Tyr-El, which was met with cheers. Then, she delivered the solemn news about Aleka. Any celebrations from that point were tempered as the truth of what had happened sank in.

The truth weighed down the traditions that followed. Diana struggled to keep her emotions in check as she watched her sisters react to the revelations about Aleka, Tyr-El, and the incident with Dessa. Some didn't want her to be buried as a fallen warrior. Some tried to justify her actions. It led to a lot of bickering. There were even a few fights that Diana had to break up.

In the end, Diana had to make the hard decisions of a queen. She had the priestesses give Aleka a proper Amazon burial, complete with a headstone. She even presided over the rituals where her body was carried to her grave. The entire island took part in the event, but the mood remained tense. Nobody seemed to know how to deal with this. Never before had the Amazons been so conflicted. At some point, Diana had to make more critical decisions that would determine the future of her sisters.

"I hope your spirit finds peace, my sister," said Diana as she solemnly bowed her head. "I have faith that the gods will guide you. As for their divine guidance during these difficult times – well, I'm afraid even my faith has limits."

"Don't be afraid, my queen," came an unexpected voice. "Besides, I don't think you need their guidance. You've already proven that beyond all doubt."

With tears still in her eyes, Diana smiled upon recognizing that voice. It belonged to Dessa, who had been the catalyst to some of the greatest challenges in this conflict. She felt the scars of this conflict more than most, but she had also been very close with Aleka.

"Hello Dessa," said Diana. "I distinctly remember our healers urging you to remain in bed for another day."

"And I remember threatening those same healers with the wrath of Ares if they tried to restrain me," she replied. "You may disapprove all you want. Issue a royal decree for all I care. _This_ is where I should be right now."

Diana shook her head in bemusement before turning to embrace her sister. Her condition had improved considerably since the atrocity she endured. Parts of her face were still bruised and she walked with a noticeable limp, but she still exuded the life and strength of a true Amazon.

After embracing her, Dessa cast her solemn gaze upon Aleka's headstone. She hadn't been present for the ceremony or the conflicts surrounding it. She might have been lucky in that respect. For her, the conflict was simpler. She had been the victim of an attack – one Aleka carried out, albeit against her will. Yet despite the horrors of this attack, she bore no disdain for her sister as he placed her hand upon the headstone.

"I wish I could've been there for her," said Dessa distantly.

"It was a…tense ceremony," said Diana. "You were better off attending in spirit. I'm sure Aleka understood."

"I wasn't referring to the ceremony, which I _still_ should've attended," she replied. "What she went through at the hands of that _monster_ – it was far worse than anything I endured. I knew Aleka better than anyone. She was so headstrong and loyal. For her to undermine our sisterhood and commit such horrible deeds – it would've taken all the torture in Hades and then some."

Her voice became choked with emotion. She fought off heavy sobs as she knelt before Aleka's headstone, showing no animosity towards her fallen sister. Despite what she endured by her unwilling hand, Dessa still loved her dearly.

"Whatever she endured, she never stopped fighting," said Diana. "She made it very clear. She would gladly give her life in the name of honor and redemption."

"As far as I'm concerned, there's nothing to redeem," said Dessa. "The terrible deeds she committed were not her own. I wish I could've been there to convince her of that."

"I think she knew that. I don't know if it would've made a difference."

"It probably wouldn't have. That man – Tyr-El, as he called himself – he made sure there was no escaping his torment. The moment we gave his words the slightest credence, he took advantage of us. In some respects, I'm responsible for aiding his atrocities."

"Don't you dare apologize for the deeds of another, sister," said Diana strongly, placing her hand on Dessa's shoulder in a comforting gesture. " _He_ is responsible for his actions – not you – not Aleka – nobody but _him_."

"I don't disagree," she replied, "but I still bear a burden. Aleka carried it to her grave. I'll have to carry it much longer."

She sadly bowed her head, letting her tears fall upon the grave where her sister had been laid to rest. Diana let her weep, but was taken aback by her sentiment. She had been the victim of an atrocity. She was the last one who deserved to carry a burden. However, she was wholly sincere in this sentiment. It soon filled her with immense sorrow.

"Lying in bed – trying to heal from wounds that go beyond mere bruises – you find yourself thinking more than you're used to," said Dessa distantly. "At first, the only thoughts you can manage are memories. You recall every horrific moment in graphic detail. I would close my eyes and see Aleka's monstrous form hovering over me – ripping off my garb – assaulting my body."

"Dessa, maybe you shouldn't…" began Diana, only to have her comfort rejected.

"No, my queen. I _should_ ," she said, a strength echoing through her sorrow. "Beyond the sights and sensations, I recalled my own screams – as well as the terrible screeching Aleka made with every act. It was painful, humiliating, and degrading in every way. But with every vivid recollection, I hear something else in that screeching. I think beyond the bloodlust…she knew she was committing an atrocity. She just couldn't stop herself."

"She was under Tyr-El's control. His desire to control runs deep," said Diana.

"I understand, but that's not what struck me most."

Her voice shifted again. She swallowed her sobs and wiped away her tears. The sorrow she felt morphed into internal turmoil. Diana still tried to comfort her, but didn't attempt to stop her. Dessa needed this. The best she could do was be there for her and listen.

"Just before _he_ arrived, Aleka and I had been debating the Amazons' traditions – namely those you sought to change," said Dessa.

"You weren't the only ones," said Diana. "That's still a debate that hasn't ceased."

"Well that debate now means something different to me. I doubt you or any of our sisters can see it the way I see it now," she said. "We agree that Aleka was not in control of herself for committing these atrocities. She understood that. However, that leads me to wonder. In generations past, did our sisters understand that when they committed their own atrocities?"

It was a distressing parallel and one that shouldn't have been associated with the atrocities of Tyr-El. Diana chose to avoid discussing this issue during such tense times. It seemed inappropriate to deal with it. However, Dessa gave the impression that this might be the best possible time to address this issue.

"They seduced innocent men, slaughtered them, and abandoned their sons," said Dessa, her voice becoming solemn once more. "They called it tradition. Many of us still do. But that line between tradition and atrocity – I cannot bring myself to see it anymore. I question whether it was even there."

"You already know my opinions on such matters," said Diana, trying not to add to her sorrows. "I don't wish to belabor them."

"Quit humbling yourself, my queen. You're better than that – better than me and my sisters deserve," said Dessa. "Your opinions were valid all along. It doesn't matter whether we call it tradition. At the end of the day, it's still an atrocity. We just let ourselves become numb to its horror. That is another atrocity unto itself! It makes us no better than Tyr-El!"

"We are _not_ Tyr-El," said Diana strongly. "What he did was overt and egregious. What the Amazons did…"

"Is still egregious, even if it was not overt," said Dessa before she could finish. "He only proved what so many of us refused to see. It is easier to make excuses than do what we know to be right in our hearts. After what I endured – what Aleka endured – we have no more excuses. We know what is right. And if we don't confront it, then we'll end up like Tyr-El and every man like him."

It was a harsh, but valid perspective – one even Diana didn't want to admit. Tyr-El had committed atrocities on a scope and scale that defied comprehension. From his perspective, these atrocities were mere means to an end. Any concept of honor or remorse was utterly lost to him. These were concepts the Amazons valued in principle, but didn't always uphold in practice.

Ever since Diana learned the truth behind the Amazon's heritage, she struggled to convince them that such practices undermined these values. She struggled so much that she wondered if it was even possible for her sisters to change their ways. Dessa, having endured the horrors of those who were without honor or remorse, now had a very sobering perspective.

Fighting off more hard sobs, Dessa softly kissed Aleka's headstone and stood up. She then turned to face Diana and placed her hands on her shoulders with a distinct sense of urgency.

"Diana…no matter what happens with our sisters moving forward, you cannot let us cling to these old ways," said Dessa. "For the good of countless innocents – for the very soul of the Amazons – we must be better!"

"I couldn't agree more," said Diana proudly.

"I don't care if that means agitating the gods. I don't care if it means welcoming our brothers back to Themyscira and all the animosity that might conjure. We must do the right thing."

"And we will," she said confidently, taking her sister's hands in hers. "Our passions from this ordeal are still raw, but I am still queen. I'm prepared to make this decision when the time is right."

"And I promise I'll be there to help see it through," said Dessa. "We owe as such to our sisters…and to Aleka."

Dessa then wiped away the last of her tears and embraced Diana as few had ever embraced her before. No amount of injury or trauma could stop her from conveying these passions. She had endured an atrocity that no one – man or woman – should endure. For the honor of the Amazons and Aleka's memory, they had to protect others from such atrocities.

With her sentiment, the challenge of reassessing her sisters' traditions no longer seemed so daunting. For the first time since she became queen, Diana felt hopeful for the future of her sisters. When she parted from Dessa's embrace, she saw in her a new strength that she hoped to spread to every Amazon on Themyscira.

"Thank you for having faith in me, Dessa," said Diana.

"I should be the one thanking you, my queen," said Dessa. "You've always been committed to doing the right thing and being where you need to be. No matter what our sisters or the gods may say, don't ever change that."

"I won't. I promise," said Diana with a warm smile.

Dessa smiled and hugged her again, reaffirming her commitment to making a better future for their sisters.

"Good," she said as she turned back towards Aleka's grave, "now if you'll excuse me, my queen – I'd like to pray for Aleka's soul on my own."

"Do what you must," said Diana with a nod, "and in the spirit of keeping my promise, I should go. There is somewhere else I need to be during these difficult times."

"Will this require another deployment of the Amazon army?" asked Dessa, only half-serious in her inquiry.

"No. This is something I must do alone."

Leaving Dessa to her prayers, Diana flew off. She already felt the weight of many burdens lifting. The challenges surrounding her sisters no longer felt so overwhelming. But before she could take on any new challenges, she had one more lingering burden to confront.

* * *

 **Fortress of Solitude**

" _I have good news, Kal-El. You powers appear completely restored and your injuries are almost fully healed. The solar treatments we administered were a complete success."_

This announcement from the Fortress' special medical android should've come as a relief to Clark Kent. Being rendered powerless and vulnerable – whether by kryptonite or a red sun – was not a pleasant feeling. Returning to full strength had always been important to him because every moment he spent powerless was another moment where Superman couldn't help someone. This time was different.

"Fully healed – complete success – not the words I would use," mused Clark as he sat on the master bed within the Fortress' main dormitory.

Since getting a clean bill of health from his medical androids, Clark had secluded himself in this dormitory to be alone with his thoughts. He had not left the Fortress since the battle against Tyr-El ended. As soon as he returned from the portal Diana opened, he stumbled into the medical bay for treatment. He eventually passed out and let the Fortress' pre-programmed treatment procedures take it from there.

The treatments themselves were uneventful. They included a steady stream of concentrated yellow sunlight and a few Kryptonian remedies that helped treat his injuries. For most of the time, he slept or remained in a semi-conscious state. But at some point, he had to wake up and address a harsh new reality. The legacy of Superman would never be the same. This left him uncertain about what lay ahead.

He would have to start making hard decisions soon enough. In wake of the battle at the Metropolis Museum, the news got a head start on establishing the scale of the challenge ahead of him. Throughout his recovery, he tuned into various news feeds to get a sense for how the people reacted to this conflict with Tyr-El. The initial results weren't glowing, but it wasn't quite as bad as it could've been.

" _Reporting live from Metropolis, GNN has received an official statement from General Sam Lane of the United States Military. The statement reads as follows: 'The alien threat known as Tyr-El is confirmed dead. No civilian casualties have been reported. The combined efforts of Superman, the Justice League, and the local Metropolis authorities to minimize casualties were successful and the evacuation order is hereby rescinded. In addition, Lex Luthor has been taken into custody by the FBI and Interpol.' We're still waiting for a statement form Lexcorp, but sources within the Daily Planet say that such a statement is unlikely. These same sources say that Luthor is likely to be charged with several counts of extortion. Those charges come on top of several outstanding charges by Interpol for weapons trafficking. The extent and legitimacy of those charges is still being assessed."_

This was the extent of the good news Clark had seen. Batman had already updated him on the clean-up efforts throughout Metropolis. He made sure that only the Justice League handled Tyr-El's remains and the remains of the Doomsday Legion. He subsequently ordered Cyborg to purge the site of every strand of Tyr-El's DNA, ensuring nobody could ever use it to rebuild his bloody legacy. The most surprising part of this effort was General Lane's cooperation.

This official statement alleviated some of Clark's concerns that he would use this incident to further his anti-alien agenda. It was certainly a golden opportunity, but he chose not to use it. Instead, he was more focused on re-establishing order throughout Metropolis and containing Lex Luthor. While he would never admit it in a public statement, Clark was certain that Lois Lane had something to do with this. That made him smile for the first time since he woke up, but such promising developments were overshadowed by a difficult new reality.

" _As our coverage of the Tyr-El story continues, we're also monitoring the chaotic public reaction to this ordeal. Just a few days ago, the public was nearly unanimous in their opinion of Superman's heritage. The Metropolis Metropolitan Museum's first ever Krypton exhibit opened to widespread praise and fanfare. Then, the story of Tyr-El's arrival and the atrocities he committed rocked the public. His relation to Superman's family has shaken the public's trust in the Man of Steel. Initial polling showed a nearly 80-percent decline in Superman's favorability rating. That rating has since stabilized, but the message is clear. Superman may never enjoy the same level of trust he once had with the public. While he has yet to make a statement, many have already made up their mind."_

The broadcast then cut to numerous clips of civilians being interviewed as they returned to Metropolis. They came from all walks of life. They were ordinary people who didn't have powers and never asked to be targets of Tyr-El's agenda. Their reactions, even if they were out of fear and shock, still mattered to Superman.

" _I don't like it. Him being here just seems to attract more trouble. What that monster did – who's to say he'll be the last?"_ said a middle-aged woman with two children by her side.

" _I think he should leave. He doesn't belong on this planet! We can barely handle our own problems. How are we supposed to handle this Tyr-El monster?"_ said an older man with a beard.

" _I've had it with aliens! Superman, Darkseid, Tyr-El – they're all the same!"_ said an irate young woman.

" _I trusted him. I visited that museum with my children when it opened. It was all so serene and peaceful. Now I know it's nothing more than alien propaganda. How am I supposed to trust him now?"_ said a middle-aged man with sunglasses and gray hair.

These reactions seemed to be the most common. The public's trust in Superman had been shaken to its core. Even those who once embraced him now feared his presence.

Sadly, Clark could hardly blame them. His presence might not have attracted Darkseid, but Tyr-El was different. He came to Earth specifically because his distant grandson was here. He did bear some responsibility for attracting such a threat. As hard as this was for him to stomach, there were still others who had not lost faith in Superman.

" _I don't care who his granddaddy was. He's still Superman! He saved the day! That's what he does,"_ said an older woman, _"and I'm gonna keep supporting him."_

" _He's a hero. That Tyr-El guy – he was a monster. Superman beat him. That's all there is to it,"_ said a young man.

The newscast didn't pay nearly as much attention to these reactions, but they were enough to give Clark plenty of hope. He might not be able to regain the public's trust completely, but he couldn't let that stop him from being Superman. The world still needed him. Threats like Tyr-El only confirmed that. It was just going to be a lot harder now.

"How am I going to do this?" Clark wondered to himself as he listened to these reactions. "What am I going to say to these people? What _can_ I say?"

These questions continued to plague him as the news continued to unfold. At some point, he was going to have to step up and address the people. He couldn't expect them to forget about Tyr-El's atrocities and the horror he inspired. His tainted legacy would create new challenges for being Superman, but he had no intention of avoiding those challenges.

As he continued monitoring the various newsfeeds, he heard a distinct buzzing from one of the Fortress' androids.

" _Kal-El, a visitor has just arrived. She's asking to see you,"_ said the voice of an android.

"Go ahead and let her in," said Clark.

" _Are you sure? I haven't even identified who it is yet."_

"I know who it is. I've been expecting her," he said with a smile.

Expecting the android to comply, Clark rose up from his bed and muted the newsfeed monitors. He was somewhat disheveled. He only wore his distinct blue pants, the lingering bruises on his upper body still visible. He also hadn't had time to shave since he began his recovery, leaving his hair and face somewhat messy. Looking at his reflection in the crystal walls of the Fortress of Solitude, he certainly didn't look like the clean-cut icon that was Superman. But for a situation like this, he needed to be Clark Kent more than he needed to be Superman.

Within moments, the door to his chamber opened and the guest he expected entered. It was Diana. He rarely accepted guests at the Fortress of Solitude. It was supposed to be a place where he could just be alone. However, he had come to appreciate Diana's company during times of distress, even more so than before.

"Hey Diana. Coming to check in on me?" said Clark, greeting her with a smile.

"Given the punishment you've taking lately, I'd say I'm wise to do so," said Diana, smiling back.

"Well as you can see, a steady dose of concentrated sunlight does a body good," he said, gesturing towards his mostly healed body. "I'm just about back at full strength."

"It wasn't just your body I was referring to."

As she approached him, she reached out and gently grazed her hand over some of the wounds – checking for herself to ensure they had healed. By any physical measure, Clark was as healed as Superman could be. Her gaze and her voice spoke to far deeper concerns. It was enough to make him feel weak, but not because of lingering injuries.

"Batman told me the cleanup in Metropolis is complete," said Diana in a more serious tone. "He and Cyborg did one last sweep of the museum. There's nothing left of Tyr-El, the Doomsday Legion, or Lex Luthor."

"Tell him to triple check for Lex Luthor. He's good at leaving nasty surprises," said Clark.

"That's _still_ not my primary concern. There's a lot of fear and resentment surrounding all things Kryptonian now – including you. Cyborg says there's already talk about tearing down the Krypton exhibit. The city is even willing to pay for it."

"You came all this way just to tell me how tense things are in Metropolis?"

"No. I came here because I know that tension is affecting you," she replied, "and it'll continue to affect you, me, and the Justice League by default. You may be as strong as any god on Olympus, but even gods struggle to bear great burdens. I want to make sure you're ready to bear yours."

"Can anyone _ever_ say they're ready?" he retorted.

"Maybe for everyone else, but you're Superman. You may be capable of bearing great burdens. That still doesn't mean you're _ready_."

Clark chuckled somewhat at her insight. Diana knew him well. She could pick up on his insecurities better than most. Having born her share of burdens, she was among the few who could understand the challenges before him. That made her special – more so now than ever.

She continued to trace her soft yet strong hands over his lingering wounds, still giving him that look of concern that rendered him so vulnerable. He let her touch all she wanted while more newsfeeds played out behind her. In them, he saw footage of the damage done by Tyr-El – from the destruction to the museum to the attack in Kasnia. The scope and scale of his impact – both on Superman and on Clark Kent – were still sinking in. The prospect of dealing with was overwhelming, but under Diana's touch it didn't feel quite as daunting.

"That's the one thing no amount of yellow sunlight can heal," said Clark distantly. "Tyr-El gives every man, woman, and child on this planet a reason not to trust Superman."

"If you being related to that bloodthirsty monster is their only reason, then it's not a very good one," said Diana.

"It doesn't have to be. The whole reason I shared my heritage with the world was to instill more trust. I can't help people or inspire them if they don't trust me. Whether reasonable or not, I'm going to have a hell of a time connecting with the people again. I want to say I'm ready, but when the truth about my family's legacy is so brutal and ugly…"

His words trailed off. Fully healed or not, he neither had the strength nor the will to recount all the ways Tyr-El had damaged his family's legacy. The damage to Superman could be even greater. There was just no getting around the horrors he revealed.

As Clark became conflicted over these hard truths, Diana guided her hands up to his head and caressed his unshaven face. Once again, her tender touch eased his distress. However, she sought to do more. Turning him away from the newsfeed, she made sure his gaze matched hers – allowing her to convey comfort, as well as other important feelings.

"Kal, before I came here, I made a very difficult decision – one that's sure to cause plenty of unrest on Themyiscira," she said to him. "I announced that I was outlawing the age-old tradition of seducing men, killing them, and abandoning their sons. I know that sounds like an obvious decision, but trust me when I say it inspired plenty of controversy."

"And I'm sure you can handle it," said Clark.

"That's just it. I didn't make that decision because I could deal with the ramifications. I did it because the weight of the truth was just too great. I felt it, but my sisters did not. So I stood in front of them, right from the steps of the Temple of Hera, and laid out the truth. We were killing innocents, condemning their offspring, and accepting this atrocity. We can call it whatever we want – tradition, necessity, sanctioned by the gods. That doesn't change the _truth_."

She made it a point of emphasis – the harsh truth of these traditions. Superman was usually the one who championed the truth. Now, Diana was challenging that title, but he didn't mind in the slightest. It sent a powerful message that he had yet to process.

"I called this tradition what it was. Then, I decreed that it would be outlawed like any other atrocity," said Diana, now speaking with a certain level of pride. "I even said I would allow our abandoned brothers to return to Themyscira if they so choose. They have Amazon blood in their veins. They have every right to share our home. That isn't just a decree. It's the cold, hard _truth_."

"I'm starting to notice a theme," said Clark.

"They noticed it too…albeit reluctantly. The truth can be very harsh – _so_ harsh, at times, we go to great lengths to lie to ourselves. We eventually become comfortable with those lies, but at the end of the day the truth doesn't change. The longer we hide from it, the harder it is to confront."

"But _you_ did. _You_ knew what to do," Clark pointed out. "I'm not entirely sure what I should do."

He remained conflicted, even under Diana's touch. He grasped her wrists, clinging to her as though she had all the answers.

It wasn't often that something was beyond Superman's reach and she could only offer him so much, but she didn't need to know everything. She just needed to inspire him as he had countless others.

"I can't tell you what you should do, Kal. Only you can decide that," said Diana, "but I can tell you this though – don't ignore the truth. Confront it. Embrace it and all its unpleasant details."

"But that means standing in front of all these traumatized people and telling them I _am_ related to Tyr-El. My people _have_ committed atrocities," said Clark, already cringing at the idea, "and like it or not, I'm indirectly related to them."

"Exactly!" she said, as though it were a good thing. "You'd be doing something that men – and even immortal women on islands forged by gods – so rarely do. You'd be acknowledging your flaws. Some people will use it as an excuse to hate you, but I believe most will respect your conviction. Superman is supposed to stand for truth. What better way to remind people of this than embracing it?"

It sounded like the least pleasant options among the painfully few before him. Yet for that very reason, it also sounded like the right thing to do.

Clark diverted his gaze for a brief moment, letting go of Diana's wrists and musing over the prospect of making such a decision. He could easily imagine people reacting with disgust and anger. He could just as easily imagine people forgiving him. It could go any number of ways. Any way would be a huge risk. But to do the right thing – that was a risk Superman was willing to take.

As the decision before him became clearer, Diana shifted his gaze back towards her. She still had a determined look in her eyes. Truth, it seemed, had a way of bringing out difficult emotions. Even with such a daunting road ahead of them, the emotions continued to escalate.

"In the spirit of embracing truth, there's one more reason I wanted to see you – one that might make your decision much easier or a lot harder," said Diana.

"Wonder Woman now has an agenda? Should I be worried?" he said half-jokingly.

"Only if the truth isn't as obvious as it needs to be," she replied. "Even before today, you and I have had our share of burdens. Being Superman and Wonder Woman, we bear those burdens on our own because we think that's how it should be. That still doesn't stop it from being…lonely."

"No. It doesn't."

She actually sounded nervous. Diana – a demigod from an island of immortal women, a warrior who had been trained by the God of War himself, and a member of the Justice League – was nervous about something. That alone should've made Clark worry. However, he found himself sharing her sentiment.

"Fighting alongside the Justice League – and especially with you – I feel like I'm among those who can understand these burdens. And yet, I've still kept everyone at arm's length," she said, her anxiety showing through every word. "Now, after the revelations about my sisters and this whole crisis with Tyr-El, I want to do things differently. I want to share my strength and my burdens with others. I want to…"

Clark then unexpectedly silenced her, placing his finger over her lips. She had so much to say and so many ways to say it. She might have gone through every one of them. Instead, Clark decided to save her the trouble.

As she stood in a dazed silence, his harms snaked around her waist and he pulled her into a close embrace. Then, all the words she struggled to say took the form of simple actions.

"Diana…I understand," he said, removing his finger from her lips.

"Clark…" said Diana in a daze.

He silenced her again, this time with a much more powerful gesture. Following the shared sentiment and the emotions that fueled them, Clark captured Diana's lips with his in a powerful kiss. In this moment there was no more confusion – no more ambiguity. It was as simple a truth as any truth could possibly be. And together, they embraced it.

There was no more need to put these feelings into words. There were no more obstacles or burdens weighing them down. The simple truth of their passions cut through every complication and excuse. In this moment, they weren't Superman and Wonder woman of the Justice League. They weren't Diana, Queen of Themyscira, or Kal-El, son of Jor-El and distant grandson of Tyr-El. They were just Clark and Diana, two people who shared many burdens and many passions for one another.

As they kissed, so many of those passions came pouring out at once – so much so that their bodies began acting on their own. Clark's powerful hands trailed down her waist while Diana snaked her arms around his neck. Their actions reflected a growing desire – one that needed to be expressed. It would've overwhelmed them if their lips hadn't abruptly parted briefly, giving them a chance to process these passions.

"Wow. That…" said Diana, grinning as her words trailed off.

"Made things _much_ easier," said Clark, grinning right back at her.

"So that means…" she said, allowing him to fill in the blanks.

" _Exactly_ what you think it means," he replied.

They both kept grinning, needing no further explanation. There was still so much to say – so many emotions to process and convey. Words just weren't enough so Clark and Diana let their actions do the talking.

They kissed again, deepening their embrace. This time, there was no uncertainty or confusion. This is what they wanted. This feeling – and all the emotions that came with it – felt so right. They had been alone, bearing their burdens by themselves long enough. Now, they were ready to bear them together.

As the kiss intensified and the emotions escalated, Clark and Diana followed their passions into uncharted territory. Whether by desire or instinct, they made their way to the bed. Clark, still plenty sore from his injuries, felt his legs give out – falling flat on his back in the center of the bed. Diana followed him, her lips never parting from hers as she jumped up into his arms – throwing her legs around his waist so that she was straddling him when they landed.

Their hearts and passions raced faster than their thoughts. Their bodies continued to act on their own with Diana's hands roaming his exposed upper body while Clark's explored her womanly curves. Diana's clothes began to loosen and Clark's already-tight pants felt much tighter. When their thoughts finally did catch up with everything else, they realized what was happening. They were about to make love.

"Diana…if we're going too far, too fast, then this might be our last chance to stop," said Clark, reluctantly breaking the kiss.

"Do you _want_ to stop?" asked Diana with a hint of seduction in her voice.

"I…I've made my desires clear," he said to her, now caressing her face just as she had done with him. "I care about you Diana…a lot. I want this with you…and then some. But if you don't think the time is right…"

This time, it was Diana's turn to silence him. She placed a finger on his lips, lovingly pawed his chest, and gazed into her eyes with the passion that only an Amazon could convey. This was happening faster than either of them had expected, but there was no turning back now. She was in love with this man and they were going to express that love.

"Kal…as far as I'm concerned, the time couldn't be better," said Diana without a shred of doubt. "If we know what we feel is true, why avoid it?"

"Sorry. Guess that's a lesson I'm still trying to learn," said Clark sheepishly.

"No need to apologize. Just shut up, kiss me, and make love to me!"

Diana crashed her lips against his and the passions began flowing again. This time, there was no stopping them. Nothing short of a full-scale invasion by Darkseid could stop them. With no further reservations or doubts, Clark and Diana followed these passions to the utmost.

Their arms and lips entwined, the shed their clothes. Clark helped her out of her attire while Diana helped him out of his pants. They then navigated the bed, slipping under the covers where the warmth of their naked bodies could grow. From all the kissing and touching, a powerful arousal emerged within them. Following this arousal, their bodies came together. Hot flesh melded with hot flesh – the sinews of two powerful beings entwined. Sharp gasps soon turned to loud moans that reverberated throughout the Fortress, echoing with raw, genuine passion.

The truth was all too clear. The emotions guiding them were unambiguous. Diana wanted this. Clark wanted this. They had confronted so many ugly truths. This truth was one of special beauty. It deserved to be embraced on this day and many more to come.

* * *

 **Washington DC – Pentagon**

"I already told you, Waller. I'm done!" barked an irate General Lane. "You want to trust Lex Luthor with our next alien threat? Go ahead! Just leave me out of it!"

The General slammed his phone down on his desk before Amanda Waller could yell back. He just spent the past half-hour listening to her lecture him on the mistake he made, using the failsafe on his Warsuit before he could take out Tyr-El, Superman, and the Doomsday Legion. He got enough lecturing from his daughter. He didn't need it from anyone else at this point.

Sitting at his desk in his office at the Pentagon, General Lane fumed over his recent decisions and the aftermath of those decisions. He didn't usually feel conflicted after a battle had been one. A good General couldn't second-guess himself, especially when the outcome was as good as anyone could've hoped for. For some people who had no business fighting a war, it still wasn't enough. It led him to wonder how much he might regret this down the line.

"Damn it, Lois. What have you gotten me into?" he said out loud as he glare angrily at the phone nearly broke.

It was the part of his decision that frustrated him most. He hadn't made this decision because it was tactically prudent. He made it because Lois convinced him to take a chance. Even though that chance paid off, it didn't sit well with General Lane for a second. It led him to question whether he was fit for this kind of battle.

He thought he could to the job. Ever since Superman first showed up, he navigated every battle with the understanding that his presence was a clear and present danger threat to this country. It put him at odds with his daughter. It put him at odds with the general public who saw Superman as a hero and an icon. General Lane prided himself on his ability to look beyond the cape and the big red S on his chest, seeing instead the potential threat he represented. A being like this, wielding power that neither the United States nor the rest of the world could contain, couldn't be trusted. A being with a loyalty and duty to no one was a threat to everyone.

He could've ended that threat for good. He could've allowed Lex Luthor to finish off Superman and Tyr-El. He might have even been able to use the failsafe in the Warsuit to ensure Luthor didn't exploit his triumph like he knew he would. Instead, General Lane to save one known threat to stop the countless unknown threats that would follow. It might have won him a sliver of respect from his daughter, but it undermined his credibility as a General.

With the ramifications of his decision and his credibility in mind, General Sam Lane found himself staring at a resignation letter in the center of his desk. He spent all morning crafting it, choosing each word with the utmost care. All he had to do was sign it, send it up to the Joint Chiefs, and wait for military bureaucracy to make it official – thereby ending his career for good. With a pen in his hand, he pondered this decision as he would any other battlefield strategy. Once again, he found himself at a loss.

"Don't do it, General. You deserve better for what you did," came an unexpected voice that disrupted his thoughts.

General Lane turned to his right to see Superman hovering in front of his window, which he forgot he left open. He scolded himself for his oversight. He tried to scold the Man of Steel as well, but he had this annoyingly gracious smile on his face that made it impossible.

"I'm inclined to say you're trespassing on federal property, but I have a feeling you'd shrug it off," said General Lane coarsely.

"If I had called your secretary and made an appointment, would you have even agreed to see me?" replied Superman, much to the General's chagrin.

"Point taken," he said. "Now what do you want? Can't you see I'm busy dreading the prospects of early retirement?"

"I had to drop by at some point. I owe you my thanks and my life."

"I take it that means Lois told you what I did."

"With more pride than I've ever seen," replied the Man of Steel. "You surprised me, General, but not as much as you surprised her."

He had to hide his reaction somewhat. He hadn't forgotten the look on his daughter's face either. He hadn't seen it often – pride and appreciation for her father. General Lane tried not to let it affect him, but his efforts only went so far.

"I made a decision," he said, still hiding his sentiment. "It's not the decision I originally intended, but I made it and it's done."

"And it was the _right_ decision," said Superman. "Tyr-El is dead. The Doomsday Legion is dead. Lex Luthor is back in custody. You should be proud of that."

"I'm a 40-year military man. You leave your pride at your door when you make decisions…including the right ones. I know you think it all worked out for the best. Maybe they did by your standards, but from a tactical standpoint – we just exchanged one battle for a much longer war."

The battle-hardened officer then stood up from his desk and glared at Superman, treating him as though he were any other civilian who thought they knew more than they did. The Man of Steel remained undaunted. In fact, he kept smiling cordially, as though that would temper his reservations about this situation. It might have been another gracious gesture on his part, but General Lane refused to ignore the bigger picture.

"Make no mistake, alien. A lot of very powerful people are _not_ happy with how this played out," the General continued.

"Are they really _that_ eager to kill every last Kryptonian?" asked Superman. "General, you're too reasonable a man to not see the flaws in that."

"Flawed or not, it doesn't change the inherent problem. You're still here. You're still an alien living in this country, on our planet, and playing by _your_ rules. Tyr-El only confirmed some of our greatest fears. Your very presence attracts problems – alien problems that we humans aren't equipped to handle. At the end of the day, we still had to rely on _you_ to stop Tyr-El. We have to rely on _you_ to stop future threats. No matter what happens, _you_ still have all the tactical leverage."

"You'd rather that leverage be in the hands of someone like Lex Luthor?" questioned Superman.

"I'd prefer that humanity have something – _anything_ to give us a fighting chance. Whether it comes from Lex Luthor or Satan himself, we need balance. Now that Luthor knows we cracked his Warsuit, we can kiss any balance we might have had goodbye. You might think it's misguided and we should just trust you – an obscenely powerful alien – with our lives. Well, after what we just saw with your granddaddy, can you see how that might worry some people?"

Superman's demeanor finally faltered, but not in the way General Lane expected. That gracious smile on his face faded and he became more serious. However, he remained undaunted by the General's harsh tone. This was the kind of rhetoric that got him and Lois into countless shouting matches. He had come to expect a certain brand of excuses from those who didn't see the world through the eyes of an officer. This time, he didn't know what to expect.

"You're right, General," said Superman, much to General Lane's surprise.

"I am? To what extent?" he asked suspiciously.

"More than I would've conceded before Tyr-El entered the picture," the Man of Steel replied. "I thought I had clear understanding about my family, my legacy, and my place on this world. That was a mistake on my part. Nobody can know every potential threat or every grim secret…even Superman. Expecting humanity to trust only me to deal with it is unreasonable and selfish on my part."

"You mind saying that on record? I doubt Lois will believe me when I tell her," said General Lane, still very skeptical.

"I've already told her. And I intend to tell everyone who will listen. I can only help people so much by stopping threats like Tyr-El. That help only goes so far if the people don't have faith in me. So if I'm going to be Supermen, I need to show a little faith of my own."

Still very much suspicious, General Lane was genuinely curious. He maintained his suspicions even as Superman presented him with something he had been keeping in his right hand. It was another small glowing data crystal, not unlike the one Lex Luthor used to torment him and Tyr-El. In the wrong hands, it was incredibly dangerous.

Despite this danger, Superman willingly placed the glowing crystal on top of the resignation letter that General Lane had yet to sign. He then took a step back, allowing the General a moment to scrutinize it. If its exotic radiance was any indication, it was more than a fancy paperweight.

"What is this?" asked General Lane as he gazed at the crystal intently.

"A leap of faith…and a more tangible way of showing my gratitude," answered Superman. "That's a Kryptonian data crystal – unlocked, unencrypted, and easy for any competent IT person to access. It contains detailed information on Kryptonian history, genetics, and physiology. That includes are our limits, our potential…and our weaknesses."

"And you're giving this to me because…" said the General, allowing Superman to fill in the blanks.

"It's what you'll need if want to counter any Kryptonian threats in the future. I believe it was Sun Tzu who once said that if you know your enemy and yourself, you need not fear the outcome of 1,000 battles. Well, now you'll know everything there is to know about Kryptonians."

This revelation genuinely surprised General Lane. Still gazing at the data crystal, he took in his hand so he could look at it closer. Only an experienced military mind could appreciate what Superman had just done. It was akin to an enemy freely sharing their battle plans before the next skirmish. Tactically speaking, Superman just exposed himself in the worst possible way.

It put General Lane in an unexpected position. Given his past criticisms of Superman, he should've been at the top of the list for men who shouldn't have such information. He could already imagine his people at DARPA and STAR Labs using this information to develop an effective countermeasure against Superman or any Tyr-Els that might still be out there. The value and implications of such a gesture couldn't be understated.

"It's not a full-fledged weapon. I still can't give you that," said Superman.

"Guess that would be expecting too much," said General Lane.

"But there's still plenty of data in that crystal for you to make use of. How you use this develop an effective counter is entirely up to you. I give it to you knowing full-well that it'll upset Lois, but I'm choosing to have faith in you, General. You proved that you're willing to do the right thing, even when it's not the most tactical. I believe that if we find ourselves in a similar situation, you'll make a similar decision."

"And if I don't?" he questioned.

"Then that'll be part of your legacy," answered Superman, "which, I guess, gives me all the more reason to rebuild mine. I intend to make this symbol on my chest – the emblem of the House of El – a symbol of hope once again. What about you, General? What will you do with your legacy before that time comes?"

It was a challenge as much as it was a question. Superman let him ponder this as he continued to gaze at the data crystal. Having said what he needed to say, giving General Lane his thanks and a potential means of defeating Kryptonians, Superman left the office – flying out the open window in a blur of blue and red.

It left General Lane in another conflicted position, albeit one very different from earlier. He still didn't like that he undermined his duties as a General, subverting tactical decisions in exchange for those guided by human judgment – an inherently flawed mechanism that had lost many wars. However, as he held up the crystal, he saw some added merit to those decisions – both personally and tactically.

He dared to trust in someone who many considered had too much power and too much leverage over the human race. That trust yielded more benefits than expected. General Lane still didn't agree with Superman's approach to helping people, but he could now appreciate methods. This made his most pressing decision a lot easier.

"Well played, alien. Well played," said the General.

With a grin larger than any General dared, he placed the data crystal in his pocket. Then, he took his resignation letter, crumbled it up, and tossed it in the nearest trash can. Superman just challenged him to fight a different kind of battle with stakes that were every bit as high. Like every other battle he fought, he intended to win and win for all the right reasons. That, more than anything else, was going to be his legacy.

* * *

 **Metropolis Memorial Hospital**

"It's getting late, Ms. Lee. You need to try and rest. If you want, I can tweak your meds again," said an overly polite nurse.

"No. You've done enough tweaking," said a restless and distant Major Sandra Lee. "Just leave me. I'll rest when I'm damn well ready."

The nurse knew better than to pester her further. Doing so would only teach her what a dozen or so other nurses had learned the hard way. There was no amount of medication that could make her sleep easy again. There was no amount of rest or treatment that could mend the scars she endured at the hands of Tyr-El. She was another proud soldier who had been broken by the horrors of war and she had to live with that now, along with a host of other painful issues.

Sitting in a wheelchair, which she would be confined to for at least six months, Major Lee gazed distantly at the Metropolis skyline. The sun had set two hours ago and the lights of the city's many buildings now lit up the sky. She tried to admire it, but she could only admire so much in her current state.

She was still in a great deal of pain, having both internal and external injuries. She remembered her doctors saying something about bruised kidneys, internal bleeding into her lungs, nerve damage in her spine, and early symptoms of severe PTSD. All these ailments, and the pain that came with it, blurred together into one prolonged indignity from which Major Lee may never recover.

"Rest. Rest. Rest. Do they really think _that's_ going to solve anything?" said Major Lee bitterly.

Scoffing bitterly, she glanced over at her bed. Whether by pity or politics, the military made sure she had the best possible accommodations for a wounded soldier. General Lane called in multiple favors to put her in a hospital room usually reserved for foreign dignitaries and diplomats. It was nicer than most hotel suits – having a large bed, an attentive staff that specialized in caring for soldiers, and a nice view of the city. It was supposed to help take the sting out of being raped and tortured by an alien – a first for a soldier, as far as anyone knew. All it did was make her feel like a prop in a conflict she had already lost.

Since she arrived, Major Lee made it a point not to follow the news surrounding Tyr-El, Superman, or whatever else had been going on. She knew something had happened in Metropolis. Some of the nurses wouldn't shut up about it. At some point, they said Tyr-El was confirmed dead. This came as a relief for many, but for her it didn't matter. She couldn't escape the pain and horror she experienced every time she tried to sleep. These scars – both in her body and in her mind – would stay with her for the rest of her life.

As the Major contemplated the breadth of these scars, she felt a sharp gust of wind through the open window. An ordinary citizen would've thought nothing of it. A trained soldier with a tormented mind, however, saw otherwise.

"What do you want?" asked Major Lee out loud. "Haven't I made my hatred towards aliens clear by now?"

"Forgive me, Major Lee. I don't mean to cause you distress. I just felt I needed to see you again. I can't go the rest of my days without _trying_ to help you."

The Major barely turned her head as Superman appeared just outside her window, having flown in so fast that he had been a blur to the naked eye. She could feel his solemn gaze on her. She could sense his sadness over what happened to her. She didn't see the point in any of it. For once, there was nothing Superman could do.

Despite her apprehensive state, the Man of Steel approached her. He was as respectful and careful as any of the nurses. She still refused to look him in the eye. Instead, her gaze remained fixated on the Metropolis skyline.

"I was going to bring you a card and some flowers. I even thought about growing a special flower at my Fortress just for you," said Superman, "but I decided not to. I realized that no gift or gesture will change how you feel."

"Well congratulations on saving yourself the trouble," said Major Lee dryly. "So what was your backup plan? Were you just going to come here, wing it, and hope for the best?"

"Who said I had a plan?" he retorted. "Besides, I always have hope…even when things are at their worst."

"That's easy to say when you're Superman. You can fight anything – endure anything – do anything. The rest of us feeble humans don't have that luxury."

"I still feel pain. It's nothing like yours, but I do feel it," he told her. "Believe me, I wish I could take your pain away. I wish I could undo _everything_ Tyr-El did to you. But that's beyond even Superman's power."

"Then what good are you? Why are you even here?" said Major Lee dryly.

"Because this is where I _should_ be," said the Man of Steel.

It infuriated her on some levels. She despised Superman for bringing a monster like Tyr-El to her world, but what he was doing right now – it was too damned decent of him. Major Lee knew too many people who didn't have the guts to face those they hurt – be it directly or indirectly. She wanted to keep hating him. She wanted to tell him off and never see him again. Instead, his presence had a powerful impact.

The wounded soldier finally turned to face him, a mix of hate and sorrow in her eyes. Any lesser man would've turned away or stepped back. Superman remained where he stood, not hiding from the horror his kind had incurred. As she gazed at him, the horrifying memories and the trauma they incurred played out once more.

"I always wanted to be a soldier. I knew by the time I was seven that this was the life for me," said Major Lee. "While other girls wanted to be princesses and prom queens, I wanted to command armies. It set me apart. It made me an _aberration_ , as my school counselor called it. It also meant I had to work harder to distinguish myself – to prove that I could be the soldier I wanted to be."

"I've seen your record. You definitely succeeded," said Superman.

"Then you should know why this hurts so damn much!" she said, her voice becoming more hostile. "I pushed myself so hard – building a career and becoming something so rare. I was one woman in a sea of faceless men, all fighting for the same goals. I fought harder. I succeeded in an unfair game. Now look at me! Look at what that…that _monster_ did to me!"

She made sure he took in every minute detail of her injuries. His X-ray vision allowed him to see every broken bone, every damaged organ, and every crippling injury that would plague her for the rest of her life. This didn't even cover the damage done to her mind. Even her very soul, if such a thing existed, hadn't escaped the horror. Superman needed to see all of it to get even a partial grasp on what she endured.

"Every time I close my eyes – every time I try to sleep – I see his face. I feel his disgusting touch," Major Lee continued, her voice becoming more and more strained. "Through the torture – the rape – all the pain and torment – it reduced me to a fucking piece of meat! All that training and hard work – it amounted to _nothing_! He didn't break a sweat when he slaughtered my men! He struggled even less with me! He…he broke me in every way!"

"No he didn't. I don't believe that for a second," said Superman.

"To hell with what you believe!" she spat angrily. "You get to go back to being this hero that everybody loves! You think Tyr-El is going to make everybody suddenly hate you? That's bullshit and you know it! People will forget. They'll move on the second you save the day again. But me – I'll still be this broken woman. I'll never get to march with fellow soldiers again. I'll never get to serve my country again. I'll never even have a child after what that asshole did to me! Not that I was planning on one, but…"

She had to stop at this point. It was too much, even for a harden soldier. At that moment, all the training and all the hatred collapsed. And in an outburst of sorrow, Major Sandra Lee broke down and cried.

It was anguish in its purest form. Every sob, every tear, and every pained gasp – it conveyed the sheer breadth of the trauma she had endured. It struck Superman harder than entire planet of kryptonite. No amount of strength, stamina, or durability could overcome this horror. Once again, he felt powerless. However, he was still Superman. He was still determined to help people. So in the face of Major Lee's anguish, he did something any man or woman of ordinary strength could do. He knelt down and embraced her with the utmost compassion.

Whether by instinct or a hidden sentiment to which she would never admit, Major Lee threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest. She then proceeded to vent her anguish in an endless torrent of sobs. It was the ultimate irony, her collapsing into the arms of someone she claimed to hate, but the feeling of his compassionate embrace overshadowed that hate.

She wasn't just embracing some alien who happened to be Tyr-El's distant grandson or some iconic hero. She was embracing a man consoling her in a very human way. It might not have been an impressive feat for Superman, but it was just what she needed. It was what they both needed. Tyr-El tried to destroy every last shred of hope in their spirits. This was their way of showing he failed.

"It's…it's not fair! Not…not fair!" Major Lee exclaimed through her sobs.

"I know. It isn't," said Superman solemnly.

The hardened soldier cried and cried, venting as much sorrow as she could. Superman continued to embrace her, holding her every step of the way. He didn't know just how long he held her like this. It didn't matter. He would console her for as long as she needed it.

Eventually, after Major Lee had run out of tears to shed, her sobs settled. Her outpouring of anguish ceased. She eventually fell silent, her face stained with tears and her body trembling from the weight of the sorrow. She remained in Superman's embrace, now at a complete loss.

When he finally broke the embrace, the Man of Steel carefully wiped her tears from her face and cast a comforting gaze to help her settle. There wasn't much else he could do for her. However, that wouldn't stop Superman from doing more than most.

"There's a special research clinic run by Wayne Enterprise," he said, finally breaking the silence. "It specializes in treating those who have suffered traumatic physical injury in combat…with a special emphasis on those who suffered traumatic psychological injury as well."

"Why bother?" said Major Lee, her voice now weak from so much sobbing. "General Lane already has me in every special treatment program the VA can offer."

"This one is different. I talked to Bruce Wayne himself. He has resources even the government can't offer – resources I think could help you if you gave it a chance. It might not be possible to undo an atrocity, but it's still possible to heal from it."

She still cast him a skeptical look. Her eyes still had so much pain and sorrow in them, but Superman refused to succumb to it. He offered her another kind gesture and a warm smile, still seeing a strength in this woman that could not be easily crushed.

"You might still be able to fight for your country. You might still be able to have a child one day," said Superman.

"Please…don't get my hopes up," she said.

"I'm not trying to," he replied, "but there's always hope that's worth clinging to. You don't need the strength of Superman or the skills of a soldier. You just have to be willing to hold onto it in your darkest hour. I'm more than willing."

"And you think I am too?"

"I have faith in you, Major Lee. Whatever hope you still have – whatever hope anyone has in the face of egregious injustice – I'll defined it until my dying breath. What you do with that hope is entirely up to you now."

If anyone other than Superman had said such words, Major Lee would've rolled her eyes. She still felt so many mixed emotions about this man – this alien, whose tainted legacy had left her so broken. But as he stood up, gave her one last reassuring smile, and flew out the window – another, much clearer emotion came over her.

As she watched the Man of Steel fly off into the night sky, one last tear fell down her face. This time, it was not one of anguish. Instead of sorrow, Major Sandra Lee felt strength. With this strength, she took a deep breath, swallowed the hatred that kept trying to overwhelm her, and let herself hope again.

She was done shedding tears, just as Superman was done fighting his legacy. They both had only hope in building a better legacy moving forward. Superman promised he would protect that hope. Looking at her reflection and the road she had ahead of her, Major Lee could only promise that this hope would be enough.

* * *

 **Downtown Metropolis – The Next Day**

Superman had never been one to make major public statements in front of global media outlets. In fact, the Justice League had a strict policy against it, which Batman often enforced, as only he could. However, even Batman conceded that there were some instances where a major public statement was necessary. The battle against Darkseid that helped forge the Justice League was one of them. Nobody doubted that Tyr-El's atrocities was another, albeit one with more personal implications.

For this statement, Superman made sure the rest of the League remained behind the scenes. He had to be the one to address this. He understood as well as everybody that nothing could be the same. Superman's legacy, and the legacy of his family, had been forever changed by Tyr-El's atrocities. So under the mid-morning sun and at a special podium just outside the Daily Planet, Superman addressed a legion of news cameras and media personnel.

"Good morning. Thank you all for coming," he greeted with dozens of cameras and microphones now pointed at him. "I know everyone's emotions are still pretty raw. I understand many are still scared. This past week has been _difficult_ to say the least – difficult and distressing. I wish we had more time to wrap our heads around these recent events, but that wouldn't be fair to you – the people I try to protect."

His words echoed for several blocks through numerous loudspeakers. Entire streets had been shut down to accommodate the crowd. Among this crowd included civilians, police, and soldiers. Lois Lane and Jimmy Olson were also among them, having a front-row seat, as they often did. But even they looked conflicted. It was a sentiment Superman readily shared and he let it show in his every word.

"Earlier this week, I spoke with such pride about my home planet and my family legacy," the Man of Steel continued. "I shared part of it with you, the people, in hopes of inspiring others – just as my family inspired me. I now know that what I shared was only ever part of the truth. And as Superman, I cannot deal in half-truths and lies."

This led into the hardest part of his speech and parts of the crowd made it harder. With his enhanced vision and senses, he could see numerous civilians holding up protest signs. They said things like "Alien Monsters Go Home!" and "No More Alien Rapists!" He could even hear some of the terrible things they said under their breath.

" _It doesn't matter what he says. He comes from a family of liars and rapists. How dare he call himself a hero!"_

" _I saw those pictures. I heard about that woman. How could he not have known?"_

" _This is just a stunt. It has to be!"_

" _All this from just one of Superman's dirty family secrets? Who knows what else he may be hiding?"_

These were all difficult sentiments to ignore. He might not be able to convince some of these people of his sincerity, but some of their concerns did have merit. Try-El set a precedent. The idea that Superman kept secrets from humanity no longer seemed so outrageous. They had every right to suspect that there might be more.

If he were any other hero, then he might have gotten away with circumventing the truth. But he was Superman. There could be no gray area with him. There was right and there was wrong. Superman, to be the hero he needed to be, had to stand for what was right.

"It's true. Tyr-El _is_ my distant grandfather," said Superman, letting the cold hard truth echo through his words. "I am directly related to a monster who raped, tortured, and slaughtered countless innocents in the name of Krypton. I do not deny that. I cannot deny my heritage. But I will not be defined by it – nor will my world. I know those words may ring hollow to some, but I still have hope that I can rise above the dread he inspired – that we can _all_ rise above it."

A sense of strength returned to his voice. It was easy for Superman to have such strength in the face of dread. It was a lot harder for ordinary humans. Understanding this, the Man of Steel took on a poise that he hoped would convey such strength to the people he fought so hard to protect.

"It's because of that hope that I've made a few important decisions," Superman continued. "First and foremost, I will not be removing the Krypton exhibit from the museum. So long as the museum will have it, I'll make sure it's there. But more importantly, I'll be updating the displays to acknowledge the atrocities that Tyr-El committed."

He could hear a few gasps among the crowd. Many reasonably assumed that he would purge every human facility of Kryptonian hardware at the first chance he could. If anyone other than Superman had made such a decision, they might have been skeptical.

"That's a mistake waiting to happen," he heard Lois say under her breath.

She might have been right. Batman had said something similar. However, it was the right thing to do and that's all there was to it.

"I will _not_ censor the truth. That's not what Superman stands for," said the Man of Steel intently. "What Tyr-El did shaped the history of Krypton – of my entire family. That same family saw his atrocities for what they were and tried to stop them. They succeeded, but they then thought it would be best to purge this event from history. They were ashamed – and understandably so – of the role the House of El played in this bloody time. Shame or not, they were still wrong. The truth cannot and should not be hidden. We must confront it if we are to learn from it…even if it's disgusting, distressing, or even terrifying. Because the moment we try to avoid the truth is the moment we forget its importance – from the lessons it teaches to the perils it reveals."

He could still hear Lois, Jimmy, and countless others muttering uncertainties under their breath. This was uncharted territory for all of them. Dealing with human atrocities was hard enough. An atrocity committed by an alien species on innocent humans was much harder to work around. Superman didn't expect it to be easy, but he was willing to give humanity a chance.

His solemn demeanor shifted. He smiled for the first time since his arrival, showing his faith and hope in humanity for all to see. Even Superman could only offer so much in the face of such atrocities. Once again, he could only be as strong as he needed to be.

"I still intend to stand for the truth, no matter how ugly it might be," said Superman proudly. "I also intend to help people, as Superman always has. I understand the peoples' trust in me has been shaken, but I cannot control the attitudes of others. I can only control what I do. And I intend to let my actions reflect the truth. I still stand for justice. I still seek to protect the innocent. I still believe I can inspire humanity to achieve great things. It might be a lot harder now, but these things are still worth doing. Even if it is the case that humanity has lost faith in Superman, I'll still never lose faith in humanity. Thank you."

Upon finishing this statement, he respectfully nodded and stepped away from the podium. Camera flashes went off. A chorus of voices echoed from the vast crowds. Some were from reporters asking questions about Tyr-El and his strategy moving forward. Some were from ordinary citizens yelling in support or opposition to him. It was chaotic, but in a meaningful way. It showed that humanity was still undecided, which gave him all the more hope that his faith in them was not misplaced.

Within this chaos, the only two voices that rang clear came from Lois and Jimmy. They were among the only ones not clamoring for questions or pictures. They just looked at him and smiled. Lois had that bemused grin on her face again – the kind she only showed when Superman once again defied expectations.

"You think he said enough?" asked Jimmy.

"He's Superman. He said exactly what needed to be said – nothing more – nothing less," said Lois, "and that's good enough for me."

Now assured that he had said all the right things, Superman took off into the sunny morning sky. The cameras still followed him. The voices of many concerned and conflicted citizens followed as well. It was up to them how they would respond to his faith in them. Only time would reveal what came of it.

As soon as he ascended over the Metropolis skyline, the echoes of voices faded. Everything became quieter and more serene as he ascended above the clouds. It gave him a moment to catch his breath and process everything that had transpired. So much had changed. Harsh truths and painful revelations promised to create more daunting challenges. However daunting they might be, Superman was ready to confront them, taking comfort in the knowledge that he wouldn't face them alone.

Shortly after ascending into the clouds, he met up with a familiar and welcome presence. It was Wonder Woman, who had been casually hovering in the crisp air. She had a proud smile on her face, having been waiting for him since before the speech. In her, he found a new kind of strength – one that even Superman could appreciate.

"Good speech," said Wonder Woman. "You think it'll do the trick?"

"That's not up to me," said Superman. "I can only keep doing the right thing and hope for the best."

"Spoken like the Superman we've all come to love – some more than others," she said with an intimate undertone.

"Well I know I'll have to work harder now. The past has a way of weighing us down. I think we've both learned that the hard way recently."

"Harder than most, I'd imagine," she sighed.

"But it hasn't held us back," said Superman strongly, "and I don't intend to let it. Right now, I want to focus on the future and I'm ready to start building that future…together."

"Together," said Wonder Woman, echoing his strength.

Guided by their faith in the future, Superman embraced Wonder Woman and celebrated this future with a deep kiss. It was a fitting first step into this future. They had both had their worlds upended. They had both had heritage, identities, and sense of self shattered by the weight of the truth. While the truth may have strained them, it did not break them. Through the hardship, they came together. Just as truth had a way of transcending injustice, love had a way of inspiring new hope.

* * *

 **THE END**

 **AN: Thank you all for reading this. I hope you enjoyed it. While not as big as my first Superman/Wonder Woman story, it offered a different approach to exploring these characters. It was a pleasure to write and, as always, I encourage everyone to provide feedback so I can continue to improve. Thanks again and take care!**

 **MarvelMaster616**


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